Camus, Tolstoy, Addams, Huxley, Shaw

& Dr. Strangelove?

5 ideas from others + some final thoughts from me

I.

No-Man’s-Land

So we now find ourselves pitted against one another, with each side determined to inflict as much pain as possible on the other, inexpiably. This thought is unbearable to me, and it poisons my days.

And yet you and I, who are so alike, who share the same culture and the same hopes, who have been brothers for so long, joined in the love we both feel for our country, know that we are not enemies. We know that we could live happily together on this land, which is our land—because it is ours, and because I can no more imagine it without you and your brothers than you can separate it from me and my kind…

But I know from experience that to say these things today is to venture into a no-man’s-land between hostile armies. It is to preach the folly of war as bullets fly. Bloodshed may sometimes lead to progress, but more often it brings only greater barbarity and misery. He who pours his heart into such a plea can expect only laughter and the din of the battlefield in reply. And yet someone must say these things, and since you propose to try, I cannot let you take such an insane and necessary step without standing with you in fraternal solidarity.

Of course, the crucial thing is to leave room for whatever dialogue may still be possible, no matter how limited. It is to defuse tensions, no matter how tenuous and fleeting the respite may be. To that end, each of us must preach peace to his own side.

Albert Camus, “Letter to an Algerian Militant,” Algerian Chronicles (1955)¹

II.

Divine Love

“Yes—love,” he thought again quite clearly. “But not love which loves for something, for some quality, for some purpose, or for some reason, but the love which I—while dying—first experienced when I saw my enemy and yet loved him. I experienced that feeling of love which is the very essence of the soul and does not require an object. Now again I feel that bliss. To love one’s neighbors, to love one’s enemies, to love everything, to love God in all His manifestations. It is possible to love someone dear to you with human love, but an enemy can only be loved by divine love. That is why I experienced such joy when I felt that I loved that man.

Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace (1869)²

III.

Intellectual Suicide

We were constantly told by our friends that to stand aside from the war mood of the country was to surrender all possibility of future influence, that we were committing intellectual suicide, and would never again be trusted as responsible people or judicious advisers. Who were we to differ with able statesmen, with men of sensitive conscience who also absolutely abhorred war, but were convinced that this war for the preservation of democracy would make all future wars impossible, that the priceless values of civilization which were at stake could at this moment be saved only by war? But these very dogmatic statements spurred one to alarm. Was not war in the interest of democracy for the salvation of civilization a contradiction of terms, whoever said it or however often it was repeated?

Jane Addams, Peace and Bread in Time of War (1922)

IV.

Innocent and Ignorant

In the press, which is owned by rich men, the interests of the investing minority are always identified (doubtless in perfectly good faith) with those of the nation as a whole. Constantly repeated statements come to be accepted as truths. Innocent and ignorant, most newspaper readers are convinced that the private interests of the rich are really public interests and become indignant whenever these interests are menaced by a foreign power, intervening on behalf of its investing minority. The interests at stake are the interests of the few; but the public opinion which demands the protection of these interests is often a genuine expression of mass emotion. The many really feel and believe that the dividends of the few are worth fighting for.

Aldous Huxley, Ends and Means (1937)

V.

Another Bogus Science

In short, Militarism must be classed as one of the most inconsiderately foolish of the bogus “sciences” which the last half century has produced in such profusion, and which have the common characteristic of revolting all sane souls, and being stared out of countenance by the broad facts of human experience. The only rule of thumb that can be hazarded on the strength of actual practice is that wars to maintain or upset the Balance of Power between States, called by inaccurate people Balance of Power wars, and by accurate people Jealousy of Power wars, never establish the desired peaceful and secure equilibrium. They may exercise pugnacity, gratify spite, assuage a wound to national pride, or enhance or dim a military reputation; but that is all. And the reason is, that there is only one way in which one nation can really disable another, and that is a way which no civilized nation dare even discuss.

George Bernard Shaw, “Common Sense About the War,” The New Statesman (1914)

I love it when you…

+I.

Not So Simple

This week’s issue of 5 Big Ideas began with one simple desire: to express my revulsion towards war.

Source

But what seemed like an easy and straightforward task quickly turned into a case of analysis paralysis.

What would happen if I ventured into this no-man’s-land? Would I be committing intellectual suicide? What would my readers think? What do my readers think? They must think warfare is the least desirable option too, right? But are they willing to admit it? Would they still respect me if I admitted it? How should I go about admitting it?

… How did other writers do it?

The thing about putting one’s convictions into writing is that those thoughts and feelings take on a sort of permanence they wouldn’t have otherwise in casual conversation. In conversation, if the person you’re conversing with disagrees with what you’ve said, you can always retort with, “What I meant to say was …”

But that’s not so easy with writing.

With writing, you must be crystal clear about what you “meant to say.” But even when you write as clearly as humanly possible, the interpretation of your intent belongs to the reader. So, to avoid future regret (and losing readers), the best option is to say nothing at all. If that’s not possible because you feel so strongly about something and must get it out one way or another, the next best option is to tiptoe around the touchy topic. So, instead of saying, “I vehemently condemn the atrocities taking place in Gaza,” or “I don’t think we should be bombing Iran,” one could say, “bloodshed may sometimes lead to progress, but more often it brings only greater barbarity and misery”—and hope your reader can read between the lines.

+II.

Waging War & Wielding Weapons

Source: Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964)

I recently watched Dr. Strangelove— Stanley Kubrick’s satirical critique of the Cold War in which an unhinged American general decides to nuke the ‘Commies,’ thereby triggering Mutually Assured Destruction. The film’s main takeaway is that when power is concentrated in the hands of a single individual, the capacity for cataclysmic self-destruction is exacerbated exponentially. All humans are susceptible to irrationality, misjudgment, paranoia, personal neuroses, and a fundamental inability to fully grasp the broader consequences of their actions. That includes Putin, Trump, and Netanyahu—all of whom possess authority over nuclear weapons.

But perhaps it’s not foreign missiles or adversaries that will be humanity’s undoing. Perhaps our greatest threat lies in our own inability to control the power we wield.

1. Translated by Arthur Goldhammer

2. Translated by Aylmer and Louise Maude