We are hearing and reading a lot just now about a war for civilisation. In some vague, ill-defined manner we are led to believe that the great empires of Europe have suddenly been seized with a chivalrous desire to right the wrongs of mankind, and have sallied forth to war, giving their noblest blood and greatest measures to the task of furthering the cause of civilisation.
It seems unreal, but it may be possible. Great emotions sometimes master the most cold and calculating individuals, pushing them on to do that which in their colder moments they would have sneered at. In like manner great emotions sometimes master whole communities of men and women, and nations have gone mad, as in the Crusades, over matters that did not enter into any scheme of selfish calculation.
But in such cases the great emotions manifested themselves in at least an appropriate manner. Their actions under the influence of great emotions had a relation to the cause or the ideal for which they were ostensibly warring.
In the case of the war for civilisation, however, we look in vain for any action which in itself bears the mark of civilisation. As we count civilisation it means the ascendancy of industry and the arts of industry over the reign of violence and pillage. Civilisation means the conquest by ordered law and peaceful discussion of the forces of evil, it means the exaltation of those whose strength is only in the righteousness of their cause over those whose power is gained by a ruthless seizing of domination founded on force.
Civilisation necessarily connotes the gradual supplanting of the reign of chance and muddling by the forces of order and careful provision for the future; it means the levelling up of
p.88classes, and the initiation of the people into a knowledge and enjoyment of all that tends to soften the natural hardships of life and to make that life refined and beautiful.
But the war for civilisation has done none of those thingsaspires to do none of these things. It is primarily a war upon a nation whose chief crime is that it refuses to accept a position of dependence, but insists instead upon organising its forces so that its people can co-operate with nature in making their lives independent of chance, and independent of the goodwill of others.
The war for civilisation is a war upon a nation which insists upon organising its intellect so as to produce the highest and best in science, in art, in music, in industry; and insists moreover upon so co-ordinating and linking up all these that the final result shall be a perfectly educated nation of men and women.
In the past civilisation has been a heritage enjoyed by a few upon a basis of the brutalisation of the vast multitude; that nation aims at a civilisation of the whole resting upon the whole, and only made possible by the educated co-operation of an educated whole.
The war for civilisation is waged by a nation like Russia, which has the greatest proportion of illiterates of any European power, and which strives sedulously to prevent education where it is possible, and to poison it where prohibition is impossible.
The war for civilisation is waged by a nation like Britain which holds in thrall a sixth of the human race, and holds as a cardinal doctrine of its faith that none of its subject races may, under penalty of imprisonment and death, dream of ruling their own territories. A nation which believes that all races are subject to purchase, and which brands as perfidy the act of any nation which, like Bulgaria, chooses to carry its wares and its arms to any other than a British market.
This war for civilisation in the name of neutrality, and small
p.89nationalities invades Persia and Greece, and in the name of the interests of commerce seizes the cargo of neutral ships, and flaunts its defiance of neutral flags.
In the name of freedom from militarism it establishes military rule in Ireland, battling for progress it abolishes trial by jury, and waging war for enlightened rule it tramples the freedom of the press under the heel of a military despot.
Is it any wonder then that that particular war for civilisation arouses no enthusiasm in the ranks of the toiling masses of the Irish nation?
But there is another war for civilisation in which these masses are interested. That war is being waged by the forces of organised labour.
Civilisation cannot be built upon slaves; civilisation cannot be secured if the producers are sinking into misery; civilisation is lost if they whose labour makes it possible share so little of its fruits that its fall can leave them no worse than its security.
The workers are at the bottom of civilised society. That civilisation may endure they ought to push upward from their poverty and misery until they emerge into the full sunlight of freedom. When the fruits of civilisation, created by all, are enjoyed in common by all, then civilisation is secure. Not till then.
Since this European war started the workers as a whole have been sinking. It is not merely that they have lost in comforthave lost a certain standard of food and clothing by reason of the increase of pricesbut they have lost in a great measure, in Britain at least, all those hard won rights of combination and freedom of action, the possession of which was the foundation upon which they hoped to build the greater freedom of the future.
From being citizens with rights the workers were being driven and betrayed into the position of slaves with duties. Some of them may have been well-paid slaves, but slavery
p.90is not measured by the amount of oats in the feeding trough to which the slave is tied. It is measured by his loss of control of the conditions under which he labours.
We here in Ireland, particularly those who follow the example of the Irish Transport and General Workers' Union, have been battling to preserve those rights which others have surrendered; we have fought to keep up our standards of life, to force up our wages, to better our conditions.
To that extent we have been truly engaged in a war for civilisation. Every victory we have gained has gone to increase the security of life amongst our class, has gone to put bread on the tables, coals in the fires, clothes on the backs of those to whom food and warmth and clothing are things of ever pressing moment.
Some of our class have fought in Flanders and the Dardanelles; the greatest achievement of them all combined will weigh but a feather in the balance for good compared with the achievements of those who stayed at home and fought to secure the rights of the working class against invasion.
The carnival of murder on the continent will be remembered as a nightmare in the future, will not have the slightest effect in deciding for good the fate of our homes, our wages, our hours, our conditions. But the victories of labour in Ireland will be as footholds, secure and firm, in the upward climb our class to the fulness and enjoyment of all that labour creates, and organised society can provide.
Truly, labour alone in these days is fighting the real war for civilisation.