On the last day of 1911, Wilfred Scawen
Blunt, the poet and propagandist for the subject peoples - the first
of the modern anti-colonialists - made a despondent entry in his diary:
Today a sad year ends, the worst politically I can remember
since the 1880s, bloodshed, massacre and destruction everywhere,
and all accepted in England with a cynical approval, our Foreign
Office being accomplice with the evil-doers, and Grey [Foreign Secretary]
their apologist. It has been a losing battle in which I have fought
long and hard, but with no result of good. I am old, and weary, and
discouraged, and would if I could slink out of the fight. I am useless
in the face of an entirely hostile world.
At the end of the 1970s, virtually everything that Blunt campaigned
for, in what he then thought a hopeless struggle, has been triumphantly
accomplished. The British empire he hated, which he regarded as an
evil conspiracy against the weak and innocent coloured peoples of the
world, is now 'at one with Nineveh and Tyre'. Africa has been unscrambled,
Asia 'liberated', sovereignty awarded to more than a hundred nations
which, in Blunt's day, were administered by European officials. The
world he knew and deplored had been erased from the map, in the greatest
transfer of power in human history; and almost all the dominant values
and assumptions of 1911 have been cast aside or inverted. The 'hostile
world' has dissolved as if it had never been, and Blunt's views have
become the prevailing wisdom of our planet.
      Yet it is difficult to argue that civilization
is any richer, or more secure, than it was then. 'Bloodshed, massacre,
and destruction everywhere': the phrase applies as well, or better,
to our times, as to his. New tyrannies have replaced old ones, and
fresh injustices have been generously heaped on the heads of countless
innocents in every quarter of the earth. Few sensitive souls can look
around the world today with feelings of satisfaction, or optimism.
This is not to say that the revolution through which we have passed
could and should have been prevented; on the contrary, it was both
just and inevitable. But the events of this century should remind us
that the hopes of mankind almost always prove illusory, and that we
have only a limited ability to devise permanent and equitable solutions
to problems which spring from human nature. Violence, shortage amid
plenty, tyranny and the cruelty it breeds, the gross stupidities of
the powerful, the indifference of the well-to-do, the divisions of
the intelligent and well-meaning, the apathy of the wretched multitude
- these things will be with us to the end of the race.
      Hence civilization will always be at risk,
and every age is prudent to regard the threats to it with unique seriousness.
All good societies breed enemies whose combined hostility can prove
fatal. There is no easy defensive formula, and the most effective strategy
is to identify the malign forces quickly, as and when they appear.
That has been the chief purpose of this book. At the same time, there
are certain salient principles, valid always but of special relevance
today, which we should take particular care to uphold. They are the
Ten Pillars of our Civilization; or, to put in another way, a new and
secular Ten Commandments, designed not, indeed, to replace the old,
but rather to update and reinforce their social message.
      The first, and perhaps the most important,
is to reassert our belief in moral absolutes. It is not true that all
codes of human conduct are relative, and reflect cultural assumptions
and economic arrangements which do not necessarily possess any authority.
It is not true that there is no such thing as absolute right, and absolute
wrong. It is not true that our behavior is wholly determined by environment.
Nor is it true that to seek to impose moral norms is an arrogant and
unwarrantable assumption of infallibility; on the contrary, in the
long run it is a necessary condition of human happiness, and even of
human survival. What is true is that every rational human being
is in a moral sense free, capable of reacting to moral absolutes, and
of opting for good or evil.
      It follows from this that certain acts
are intrinsically, always and everywhere wrong. Murder is always wrong.
Thus anyone who tries to justify political violence, the greatest single
evil of our age, must automatically be suspect as an enemy of our society.
In fact the theories which attempt to legitimize killing in the pursuit
of political objectives are, without exception, founded on false premises,
illogical or rest on deliberate linguistic conjuring. Hence there is
a natural presumption that anyone seeking to circumvent the common
opinion that violence is wicked is an intellectual crook; as John Ralwe
put it in A Theory of Justice: 'On a subject as ancient and
much discussed... we may probably assume that a novel, and hence interesting,
view of violence is likely to be false.' Moreover, a propagandist or
pedagogue who is wrong about violence is almost certainly wrong about
all his other claims to truth. The virtue we should cherish most is
the courage to resist violence, especially if this involves flying
in the face of public opinion which, in its fear, and in its anxiety
for peace, is willing to appease the violators. Above all, violence
should never be allowed to pay, or be seen to pay.
      The third moral axiom is that democracy
is the least evil, and on the whole the most effective, from of government.
Democracy is an important factor in the material success of a society,
and especially in its living-standards. But of course the essence of
democracy is not one-man-one-vote, which does not necessarily have
anything to do with individual freedom, or democratic control. The
exaltation of 'majority rule' on the basis of universal suffrage is
the most strident political fallacy of the twentieth century. True
democracy means the ability to remove a government without violence
without violence, to punish political failure or misjudgment by votes
alone. A democracy is a utilitarian instrument of social control; it
is valuable in so far as it works. Its object is to promote human content;
but perhaps this is more likely to be secured if the aim is rephrased.
As Karl Popper says, the art of politics is the minimization of unhappiness,
or avoidable suffering. The identification of the cause and scale of
suffering draws attention to, and defines, problems in society; and,
since man is a problem-solving creature, eventually gets something
done about them. The process of avoiding suffering is greatly assisted
by the existence of free institutions. The greater their number, variety
and intrinsic strength, and the greater their independence, the more
effective the democracy which harbours them will be. All such institutions
should be treated like fortresses: that is, soundly constructed and
continually manned.
      Free institutions will only survive where
there is the rule of law. This is an absolute on which there can be
no compromise: the subjection of everyone and everything to the final
arbitration of the law is more fundamental to human freedom and happiness
than democracy itself. Most of the post-war democratic institutions
have foundered because the rule of law was broken and governments placed
themselves about the courts. Once the law is humbled, all else that
is valuable to a civilized society will vanish, usually with terrifying
speed. On the other hand, provided the rule of law is maintained intact,
the evil forces in society, however powerful, will be brought to book
in the end - as witness the downfall of the Nixon administration. The
United Nations has proved not merely a failure, but a positive obstacle
to peace and justice, because it has put the principle of one-nation-one-vote
above the rule of law, including its own. But the rule of law is essential,
not merely to preserve liberty, but to increase wealth. A law which
is supreme, impartial and accessible to all is the only guarantee that
property, corporate or personal, will be safe; and therefore a necessary
incentive to saving and investment.
      The fifth salient rule is always, and in
all situations, to stress the importance of the individual. Where individual
and corporate rights conflict, the political balance should usually
be weighted in favor of the individual; for civilizations are created,
and maintained, not by corporations, however benign, but my multitudes
and multitudes of individuals, operating independently. We have seen
how, under the Roman empire, political and economic freedom declined, pari
passu, with the growth of the corporations, and their organization
by the state. The Roman concept of the collegia survived; it
was built into the Christian church, and so was carried over into the
Dark Age towns and into the guilds of medieval and early modern society.
Guild-forms were eventually transmuted into trade unions. The liberal
epoch, which occurred after the powers of the guilds has been effectively
curbed, and before the powers of the unions had been established, was
thus a blessed and fruitful interval between the two tyrannies - fruitful,
indeed, because it produced the Industrial Revolution, the first economic
take-off, and thus taught the world how to achieve self-sustaining
economic growth. The trade union is now increasing its economic power
and its political influence faster than any other institutions in western
society. It is not wholly malevolent, but is has certain increasingly
reprehensible characteristics. One is that it claims, and gets, legal
privilege; it thus breaks our forth commandment, the rule of law. Another
is that it curbs the elitist urge in man, the very essence of civilization,
and quite deliberately and exultantly reinforces the average. As Ortega
Y Gasset puts it, in The Revolt of the Masses, 'The chief characteristic
of our time is that the mediocre mind, aware of its own mediocrity,
has the boldness to assert the rights of mediocrity and to impose them
everywhere." Such an actual or potential menace to our culture can
be contained, provided we keep this commandment strictly, and protect
the individual against corporatism.
      The sixth of our rules is that there is
nothing morally unhealthy about the existence of a middle class in
society. No one need feel ashamed of being bourgeois, of pursuing
a bourgeois way of life, or of adhering to bourgeois cultural
and moral standards. That it should be necessary to assert such a proposition
is a curious commentary on our age, and in particular its mania for
the lowest common denominator of social uniformity. Throughout history
all intelligent observers of society have welcomed the emergence of
a flourishing middle-class, which they have rightly associated with
economic prosperity, political stability, the growth of individual
freedom and the raising of moral and cultural standards. The middle
class, stretching from the self-employed skilled craftsman to the leaders
of the learned professions, has produced the overwhelming majority
of the painters, architects, writers, and musicians, as well as the
administrators, technologists and scientists, on which the quality
and strength of a culture principally rest. The health of the middle
class is probably the best index of the health of a society as a whole;
and any political system which persecutes its middle class systematically
is unlikely to remain either free or prosperous for long.
      We have seen that there is a close connection
between the rise of the middle class, and the growth of political and
economic freedom. But it is not true, as Lenin contemptuously asserted,
that 'freedom is a bourgeois prejudice'. Freedom is a good which
any rational man knows how to value, whatever his social origins, occupation
or economic prospects. Throughout history, the attachment of even the
humblest people to their freedom, above all their freedom to earn their
livings how and where they please, has come as an unpleasant shock
to condescending ideologues. We need not suppose that the exercise
of freedom is bought at the expense of any deserving class or interest
- only of those with the itch to tyrannize. So the seventh commandment
is that, when the claims of freedom conflict with the pursuit of other
desirable objects of public policy, freedom should normally prevail;
society should have a rational and an emotional disposition in its
favour. In our times, liberty's chief conflict has been with equality.
But absolute equality is not a good at all; it is a chimera, and if
it existed would prove as fearful and destructive a monster as that
grotesque creature Bellerophon killed. And the regarding and indiscriminate
pursuit of relative equality, itself desirable, has led to many unwarranted
restrictions on human freedom without attaining its object. In short,
for many years the bias has been in the wrong direction, and it is
now necessary to strike a new balance of moral good by redressing it.
Where there is genuine doubt between the legitimate claims of liberty
and equality, the decision taken should be the one most easily reversed
if it proves mistaken.
      When we are dealing with concepts like
freedom and equality, it is essential to use words accurately and in
good faith. So the eighth commandment is: beware of those who seek
to win an argument at the expense of the language. For the fact that
they do is proof positive that their argument is false, and proof presumptive
that they know it is. A man who deliberately inflicts violence on the
language will almost certainly inflict violence on human beings if
he acquires the power. Those who treasure the meaning of words will
treasure truth, and those who bend words to their purposes are very
likely in pursuit of anti-social ones. The correct and honourable use
of words is the first and natural credential of civilized status.
      Of course using words in their true sense
is one element in precision of thought. And trained skill in thinking
precisely to advance knowledge is what we mean by science. So the ninth
commandment is: trust science. By this we mean a true science, based
on objectively established criteria and agreed foundations, with a
rational methodology and mature criteria of proof - not the multitude
of pseudo-sciences which, as we have seen, have marked characteristics
which can easily be detected and exposed. Science, properly defined,
is an essential part of civilization. To be anti-science is not the
mark of a civilized human being, or of a friend of humanity. Given
the right safeguards and standards, the progress of science constitutes
our best hope for the future, and anyone who denies this proposition
is an enemy of science.
      The last of our laws follows from the ninth,
and in a sense embraces them all. It is this: no consideration should
ever deflect us from the pursuit and recognition of truth, for that
essentially is what constitutes civilization itself. There are many
around today who concede, in theory, that truth is indivisible; but
then insist, in practice, that some truths are more divisible than
others. If we want to identify a social enemy we need go no further
than examine his attitude to truth: it will always give him away; for,
as Pascal says, 'The worst thing of all is when man begins to fear
the truth, lest it denounce him.' But truth is much more than a means
to expose the malevolent. It is the great creative force of civilization.
For truth is knowledge; and a civilized man is one who, in Hobbes'
words, has a 'perseverance of delight in the continual and indefatigable
generation of knowledge.' Hobbes also writes: 'Joy, arising
from imagination of a man's own power and ability, is that exaltation
of mind called glorying.' And so it is; for the pursuit of truth
is our civilization's glory, and the joy we obtain from it is the nearest
we shall approach to happiness, at least on this side of the grave.
If we are steadfast in this aim, we need not fear the enemies of society.