War
and Peace
MARK: (Quotes aloud
from a letter by a female correspondent in a newspaper which he has just taken
from the pocket of his jacket) 'This is yet another example of the cloud of
violence that has invaded the modern screen and turned cinema into a den of
vice. It would be better for everyone if
such disgusting films were banned and their respective writers, directors,
producers, and actors/actresses either imprisoned or made to pay a heavy
fine. Then we might have more peace in
the world and less unrest on the streets of our major cities.' - Well, what do
you make of that? It certainly sounds as
though the correspondent was deeply offended by what she saw at the cinema the
other week, doesn't it?
PHILIP: I suppose she
is one of those elderly spinsters who, in lacking a family of her own, imagines
that it's her duty to protect the welfare of society instead. Either that, or she's one of those happily
married mothers who, in condemning cinema, imagines she is protecting the welfare
of her family by inoculating them against the celluloid iniquities of the
contemporary world!
MARK: She has signed
herself a Miss Edith Connors, so she might well be one of those elderly
spinsters. But whoever she is, her moral
squeamishness and sense of social responsibility evidently got the better of
her that time! (He resumes quoting aloud from her letter) 'The film
authorities should be condemned for not having banned it, and the censor
condemned for not having been fastidious enough in his application to the
spiritual welfare of the public at large.' - So she argues towards the end of
her bad-tempered and slightly irrational letter, which must have upset or
angered, not to say bemused, quite a few people, not least those who have seen
or intend to see what she calls this 'Callous, brutal, and highly immoral
film'!
PHILIP: I pity the
censor. For he is often torn between
those, on the one hand, who criticize him for censoring too much and those, on
the other hand, who criticize him for censoring too little, so that he is
rarely popular with anyone. To some
extent, he is a sort of Christ-like figure who must bear the 'sins of the
world' on his shoulders, in order that others may go free of them. For he is periodically subjected to both the
wrath of the public and the writers, directors, actors, et cetera, whose hard
work he may occasionally be obliged to censor.
In addition, he is a sort of psychic sewer and/or drainage system
through whom all the accumulated pictorial and aural filth of the human mind
must pass before a film can be deemed eligible for public consumption. However, it's well-worth drawing attention to
the fact that one sometimes experiences far worse scenes in one's nightmares
than ever one is likely to see at the cinema, and that one's dream life, far
from respecting moral scruples, will not hesitate to inflict pictorial
atrocities upon one which would almost certainly be censored if shown on
film! One need only bear in mind the
horrific nature of certain of one's past nightmares, and the rather sobering
effect they had on one, to realize that nothing shown on film can really
compete with them, not even in the sometimes more lurid context of video. For one very rarely breaks out into a cold
sweat after having just viewed a horror film, the way one frequently does after
having just woken-up or, more probably, woken oneself up from a spine-chilling
nightmare! Even that seemingly
responsible correspondent whose letter you have just quoted, has probably
witnessed far worse scenes in her minuscule dream-life than anything she saw at
the cinema the other week. Indeed, there
are certain dreams which are so ugly, so monstrous, so merciless to both
oneself and those within the dream sequence, that one is ashamed of having
dreamt them, dreams of which the day-time censor in us is obliged to quash the
memory in the interests of one's self-respect.
And there can't be a person on earth who could pretend to not having had
occasional experience of those kinds of dreams!
MARK: A statement which
leads me to understand that, since we don't have a censor in our dreams, there
would seem to be no reason why we should have one in connection with films.
PHILIP: No, I don't
think you ought to construe that idea from my words. For the world of dreams is an entirely
private affair, against which the individual is virtually powerless to
intervene, whereas the world of films is an entirely public affair for which,
as with all such affairs, society must take some responsibility. Hence it's only proper that some form of
censorship should be imposed, where thought necessary, on that which may
influence the collective psyche of a people in a detrimental manner. And not only for the benefit of those to whom
a film is shown but, no less importantly, for the benefit of those who made it,
since without the threat of censorship, their work might well degenerate into
something unspeakably banal, tedious, and predictable, while the actors might
be exploited more ruthlessly and shamelessly than would otherwise be the
case. But, even so, modern censorship is
by no means over-conservative or over-fastidious in its attitude to what should
or shouldn't be shown and, as the example of that irate letter-writer will
attest, it is sometimes sharply criticized by those who somehow feel that it
should be more stringent and discriminating than currently seems to be the
case. However, no matter what one does
or says, one can't please everyone, and it's highly probable that if a majority
of violent films were made less violent for the sake of those who belong to
Miss Connors' disapproving class, you would then encounter a whole barrage of
accusative letters from people who were either bored or offended by the absence
of suitable excitement. So, in the long
run, it's up to the film industry to do what it is in a position to do,
irrespective of the hostile criticisms it may receive from those who think they
know better! As Baudelaire so well
expressed it in his Intimate
Journals: 'The world only goes round by misunderstanding. It is by universal misunderstanding that all
agree. For if, by ill-luck, people
understood each other, they would never agree'.
MARK: Yes, that
quotation is certainly apposite in the context under discussion, isn't it? Still, there seems to be an increasing number
of letters in this and other papers from people who are sincerely offended by
all the violence, sex, foul language, and crime portrayed both at the cinema
and on television/video these days. Now,
although I can't entirely sympathize with them, I believe that in some cases
they have a fairly valid point. After
all, is there anyone who hasn't been offended by a film or part of a film at
some time in his life, even if not very deeply?
And is a person necessarily a wimp or an old-fashioned prig simply
because he finds a particular film unduly offensive and subsequently complains
about it in the press? It appears
absolutely indisputable to me that immorality of one kind or another has
become, over the past two or three decades, increasingly prevalent in society,
in consequence of which the world, and the Western part of it not least, is now
subjected to the contemplation of more intentionally brutal, vulgar,
sensationalist films than at any time since the dawn of cinema.
PHILIP: Yes, it's
undoubtedly true that the West is being subjected to the spectacle of
increasingly violent films these days.
But I think you must also remember that modern society isn't
fundamentally the most exciting of societies and that, to a certain extent,
violent films help compensate for a lack of excitement in other contexts by
providing a surrogate excitement of their own.
MARK: In other words,
without a steady barrage of brutal films, society would be more boring than at
present?
PHILIP: No, without a
steady barrage of brutal films it would probably be more violent than at
present. The film industry isn't an
isolated phenomenon which has little or no effect on society as a whole, but a
highly integrated part of it, something that helps to make contemporary society
what it is. Consequently its removal
would not mean that, deprived of this sublimated species of entertainment,
society would necessarily become more boring, but that it would have to find an
alternative mode of excitement elsewhere.
And one can only assume that such an alternative mode would take the
form of actual rather than simulated violence.
After all, you mustn't forget that we still live, if only just, in a
humanistic age, and that film provides a catharsis for pressures which might
otherwise be vented on actual people, and probably in the most brutal
fashion. For man is neither an angel nor
a demon, but a paradoxical combination of both!
MARK: Yes, that may be,
but I'm not at all convinced that the cinema does in fact provide a viable
catharsis, or that simulated violence, insofar as it is simulated, is as
psychologically convincing as would be the bloody spectacle of an actual
gladiatorial combat between well-armed men in a specially-designed arena. I am quite confident that the ancient Romans
would have obtained more excitement or satisfaction from watching
suitably-trained men actually killing one another, than a modern cinema
audience can ever hope to obtain from watching a film with suitably-trained
actors pretending to kill one
another. Consequently I'm strongly
inclined to believe that the psychological inadequacy of the spectacle of
simulated violence on screen only serves to perpetuate real violence off it, because too many
people, instead of being appeased by the gruesome spectacle before them, only
have their appetite for violence whetted all the more, with the unfortunate
outcome that they foolishly strive to emulate and even surpass their favourite
actors.
PHILIP: I think that is
one of the most misguided notions in existence, and one, moreover, which seems
to imply that actual gladiatorial combats would be more psychologically
beneficial to the public than the contemplation of simulated violence on the
screen! But we still live, to repeat, in
an age of humanism, not of paganism, and so it's therefore unthinkable that
people should revert to killing one another on a regular basis, just for the
sake of entertaining somebody else!
MARK: Naturally, I
didn't intend to imply that society should literally revert to gladiatorial murder in
such pagan fashion, but simply that, as a vehicle for authentic catharsis and
the attendant sublimation of certain violent impulses in man, film is
ultimately an inadequate device which only serves to encourage actual violence
by setting a bad example. This fact has
been demonstrated time and time again!
PHILIP: True, there are people who endeavour
to imitate their film heroes or who are sadly influenced by various sordid
aspects of the world portrayed on screen, whether big or small, but, in all
fairness, I would hesitate to number them among the majority of regular
film-viewers, or, for that matter, to credit them with very much
intelligence. They are fundamentally the
type of people who, if they weren't encouraged to indulge in violence by the
latest brutal film, would find some other pretext for indulging it
instead! But I can tell you that not one of the war films I
have ever seen has made it imperative for me to start a war with somebody as
soon as I left the cinema or, alternatively, to plan a war with somebody during
the subsequent weeks. And if that sounds
a little too fantastic, then let me bring the context nearer the realms of
plausibility by informing you that, after viewing the first Death Wish movie and
certain other similar portrayals of urban terrorism, I had not the slightest
desire to either mug or rape anyone, but only a strong desire to forget about
most of what I had seen! And, in saying
this, I'm by no means speaking from a minority viewpoint.
MARK: Well, maybe that
is true as far as the more sensible people are concerned. But it is still a fact that the minority to
whom it doesn't apply are more numerous than you might care to believe. And, of course, it's also true to say that,
even with the formidable presence of the film industry and its possible
cathartic overtones, there is still a lot of actual violence in
contemporary society, such as can be found, for example, at football matches,
nightclubs, and political demonstrations, not to mention the racial tensions,
the expanding crime figures in certain fields, the regular terrorist activities
which cloud our age and against which the so-called cathartic effects of film
are virtually powerless.
PHILIP: Indeed. But it is also worth remembering that a
majority of people aren't regular cinema-goers, since contemporary populations
are so large and varied, in their interests, that the excitement afforded
certain people by one species of commitment or entertainment would be largely
irrelevant to the needs of those tens of thousands, if not millions of people
who are regularly entertained or preoccupied by another. So it would be quite foolish to blame the
cinema for the violence traditionally associated with football matches or,
alternatively, to blame footballers or even football hooligans for the violence
commonly associated with certain political demonstrations, or, again, to blame
political demonstrations for the violence which sometimes occurs at nightclubs,
and so on. All one can be certain of is
that there are worlds within worlds, and that each of these worlds has its own
specific brand of violence and, doubtless, its own incentive for indulging in
it. But violence of one form or another
there will probably always be, and it is quite silly of anyone to presume that
society is imperfect in consequence.
After all, we are men, not angels or machines, and so a certain degree
of violence is always legitimate, even though it may take numerous guises and
sometimes give one the impression, when viewed subjectively, that society is a
mess. But one ought to be thankful,
during peace time, that there is really so little serious damage done through
violence. For a majority of people
somehow manage to survive from one day to another, and the violence which does
occur is usually - exceptions to the rule notwithstanding - of a relatively
superficial nature. Of course, I don't
wish to give you the impression that things are better than they really are or,
for that matter, to condone the violence which sometimes takes place, even
these days, at or around certain football matches. But I'm fully aware that things could be much
worse than they are, so that to exaggerate such sporadic outbursts of brutal
activity as do occur is to turn one's back on human nature and expect
the impossible - namely no violence whatsoever, which can only be described as
a gross self-deception! Thus whilst I
can understand that society should take certain measures to curb football
hooliganism, it seems utterly preposterous to me that it should endeavour to
stamp-out violence altogether, since if the will to brutality is successfully
thwarted in one context, it will sooner or later break-out with redoubled might
and quickly establish itself in another - a situation which will eventually
give rise to worse problems. But
football hooliganism isn't, by any means, the only kind of violence to which
contemporary society has been subjected, though, on account of the general
popularity that football enjoys amongst a large proportion of the male
population in most countries, we needn't be surprised if it should
traditionally have been one of the principal kinds, especially in the days
before all-seater stadia became a mandatory requirement for the top clubs and
people were packed together like sardines.
However that may be, we should distinguish between legitimate violence,
which is approved by the State, and what one might call illegitimate violence,
which isn't approved by it. Now in
football it's the players who, up to a point, enjoy the former, while the more
unruly elements of the opposing supporters engender the latter. And such is the case right the way through
society, with legitimate and illegitimate types of violence accompanying each
other to the alternating response of approval and disapproval, acceptance and
rejection, encouragement and discouragement.
MARK: So you evidently
believe that there will never come a time when violence is entirely stamped out
of human society?
PHILIP: Yes, as long as
we remain men and don't turn into lopsided monsters or mechanized automatons,
there will always be some kind of violence, even if only in the context of
computer games. For an over-peaceful
society would be a danger to both itself and the coming generations, who would
inherit the accumulated repressions of their forebears and thereby be at risk
of becoming more violent than they might otherwise have been. A man who aspires to being more good or
placid or kind or whatever than he ought legitimately to be, is really behaving
irresponsibly, since responsibility has close connections with the extent to
which one faces-up to the human condition and accepts human nature for what it
is, i.e. for the dualism it is, instead of foolishly endeavouring to impose
one's own rather perverted criterion upon it, to the detriment of both oneself
and the society in which one lives. You
might know that the expression 'to run amok' was derived from an historical
situation in Malaysia where men who had been highly respected, peaceful, and
law-abiding citizens until their middle years suddenly 'ran amok', with dagger
or cleaver in hand, and murdered as many people as possible, to the utter
astonishment of all those who had known of their previous exemplary
conduct! Yet this strange phenomenon
could be regarded as the inevitable penalty such men seemingly had to pay for
having denied themselves as human beings, for having been much too one-sided,
much too partial in their attitude to morality, and thus for having gradually
created too many repressions fatally contradictory to human nature. And so, in order to restore a balance and
thereby safeguard what little sanity they still possessed, an immutable law of
their being coerced them into committing a major evil which, paradoxically,
would somehow atone for all the minor evils they had hitherto avoided or
repressed.
MARK: Thus the men who
mistakenly thought they ought to be angels were ultimately compelled to become
demons, before they could recover their basic humanity and thereby exist, no
matter how briefly, as a combination of both?
PHILIP: Yes, that is
probably the case. And so it's a
profound lesson to us that we should acknowledge the irresponsibility of a man
who either despises or lacks the courage to face-up to human nature, and is
subsequently compelled to accept it the hard way - through direct participation
in some monstrous outrage! But that is
only one way of looking at the problem, since it could also be caused by the
fact that the society in which such a man lives imposes far too many social constraints
upon him, and thereby forces him into an unnaturally one-sided, over-placid
role. In fact, I am strongly inclined to
believe that this was the main reason behind such sporadic outbursts of
violence as that to which I have just alluded, because the Orient, through the
traditional influence of its major religions, has hitherto put more emphasis,
in general terms, on placidity and gentleness than the Occident, and such an
inclination has often led to fatal consequences not only in Malaysia but in
India, Burma, and Tibet, where the accumulated repressions brought about by
years of dedicated service to Buddhist, Hindu, or similar ideals ultimately
broke through the façade of gentleness, in various ostensibly righteous
citizens, and subsequently led to mass murder and/or rape. Indeed, you may remember from the history
books concerning India and its British rulers that the latter often had a
difficult task in controlling the periodic outbreaks of violence which took
place within the indigenous population under the guise of religious sectarianism
but which, on a profounder evaluation, were probably the result of the ethical
constraints that had been imposed upon them from time immemorial and could no
longer be maintained with any great success.
And so religion served as a useful pretext for the shedding of innocent
blood, much as though a blood sacrifice was the price that had to be paid by
the long-term devotees of such ethical constraints.
MARK: True, and if it
is not religion it's politics, equality, or freedom - something, in other
words, that will provide an adequate excuse for brutality and thus justify its
continuance.
PHILIP: Precisely! And not without reason. For society is just as entitled to the use of
a collective persona, or mask, as its individual members to the use of a
personal one, and so must it always be!
Our cynicism in the face of such collective pretexts as religion,
politics, sport, et cetera, does little to undermine their basic validity. For our self-respect is not geared to
violence for the sake of violence but to violence with a cause and, except in
those comparatively rare instances of people who are the victim of some form of
pathological derangement, it will always prevent us from acting contrary to our
self-interest. Hence it is not
surprising, as Eugene Ionesco noted in his Journal en Miettes, loosely
translatable as 'Fragments of a Journal', that people will never entirely
'demystify' themselves, even though many of them may pretend to have done
so. But, as far as the overall psychic
hygiene of a nation is concerned, there can be no pretext so efficacious as
war, since it is the ultimate pretext for enabling various peoples to murder
one another with a relatively clear conscience, and to do so, moreover, in the
interests of a future peace.
MARK: So you are evidently
not a pacifist?
PHILIP: No, because I
don't see how human beings can possibly circumvent the basic dualistic drives
to which they are eternally subject, by dint of their common human nature. It's as difficult to imagine a life without
war as to imagine one without nightmares, diseases, deaths, or crimes. Now although we may loathe the prospect of
war as much as if not more than the prospect of one or another of these
alternative evils, we are ultimately as powerless to prevent its occurrence as
to prevent their occurrence - certainly while things remain in an open-society
framework, at any rate! We may make as
many resolutions and plans as we like, but sooner or later the Law of Averages
will swing back towards us and engulf us in its inexorable logic. Yet it is as logical that people should
become inordinately idealistic just after the conclusion of a major war - and
thereupon make brazen statements about eternal peace or a war to end all wars,
et cetera - as that they should become inordinately realistic or, more
correctly, naturalistic just before the beginning of one. For, in the former case, the demon in man has
been temporarily placated and the angel has come to the fore, whereas, in the
latter case, the demon has been temporarily repressed and the angel has become
oppressive, thus creating a tension which can only be relieved through
violence.
MARK: Then you're
suggesting that too much war and peace would be equally detrimental to man's
psychic equilibrium, and would amount, eventually, to a caricature of both?
PHILIP: Yes, which is
why society becomes increasingly violent just prior to a major war and
increasingly peaceful just after one, as can be verified by a study of recent
history. But, controversial though some
of what we're saying may be, I don't seriously believe that there will ever be
a complete cessation of war, whatever its subsequent transmutations, not even
if and when the people of this planet join together under the protection of a
central administrative body with a monopoly on armed force, because the world
in only a tiny part of the Galaxy, of which the Sun is but a minor star, and
the Galaxy itself is only a tiny part of the Universe, about which our
knowledge is, as yet, comparatively limited.
So it seems probable to me that, after the cessation of world wars,
mankind will then enter an epoch of interplanetary wars, from which epoch they
may well proceed to one of galactic wars, after which, assuming mankind
survives in any recognizable form, they might even proceed to an epoch of
intergalactic wars, and finally to one of universal wars, the greatest of them
all! But even if this last hypothetical
development isn't liable to occur for several centuries, if ever it does, there
is no reason for us to assume that, with the cessation of world wars, this
planet will be immune to the influence of other solar systems, the nearest of
which probably being the first to produce a planet on which the life forms of
another species may well wage martial conflict with the earth.
MARK: But what reason
or reasons would the inhabitants of a nearby solar system possibly have for
waging war with future generations of people here on earth?
PHILIP: As many
reasons, I dare say, as people on earth have hitherto had for waging war
between themselves, the most important doubtless being the need to placate a
dualism which requires unremitting fidelity from its multitudinous subjects,
and has little or no use for a lopsided pacifism. After all, it's as impossible to conceive of
advanced life-forms who aren't dualistic but can still exist ... as to conceive
of advanced life-forms who are dualistic but can't exist. One can only assume that if advanced beings do exist on various other
planets in different solar systems, then their existence would be on a similar
basis to that which makes it possible for us to exist here, and with similar
metaphysical obligations. However, in
attempting to answer your question more concretely, I can quite imagine an
interplanetary war being sparked off by such things as a mutual or unilateral
fear of the other planet's power, a dispute over territorial rights in space,
the need of one planet to colonize another in order to secure more land for its
teeming populations, or because it is being threatened with extinction through
the cooling or gradual disintegration of its sun, or because it has run out of
suitable natural or other resources and is thereby threatened with widespread
disease and starvation, or because a future Helen of Troy is abducted by a
'foreign' power, to the great dismay of the 'robbed' power, or because both
powers are competing for similar galactic spoils, and so on. Hence the patterns that we have seen emerge
between two or more countries on earth, over the centuries, could quite
conceivably be repeated on a larger scale between two or more planets in this
galaxy, with similarly violent consequences for the opposing sides. Yet war isn't a thing that one can depend
upon to occur at such-and-such a date, but is something which usually strikes
peoples 'out of the blue', as though triggered by the most unlikely event. For, with the best will in the world, the
precautions which a group of nations may take to prevent its occurrence may
only serve, in the long run, to provoke it or, at any rate, prove an inadequate
safeguard against the wheel of chance and the blow of fate which suddenly
beleaguer them from unexpected quarters.
MARK: Yes, that wheel
of chance and blow of fate could well strike our divided world at any time now,
particularly if the leading nations continue to amass weapons and missiles with
the same intensity as they have shown over the past three or more decades! For one can't help feeling that, sooner or
later, the vast stockpiles amassed by each side will coerce the powers
concerned into justifying their military expenditure, technology, training,
development, et cetera, by making use of the infernal means at their
disposal. In other words, a
representative conscience of the peoples concerned will make it perfectly clear
to their national vanity that they're not amassing warheads, say, for the mere
sake of it, since that would be sheer insanity, but in order to protect
themselves against external encroachments, should they suddenly find their
country hurled into a nuclear conflict.
And so it is virtually inevitable, if the peoples concerned aren't to go
completely mad, that such a war will eventually come to pass. Otherwise, they'll have so many weapons and
missiles at their disposal that they won't know where to put them all, and the
workers who manufacture them will be coerced into assuming that their hard work
is entirely gratuitous, and may well end-up becoming neurotic or going
mad. Then, of course, the tax payer will
be angered by the fact that so much of his hard-earned money is being continually
wasted on superfluous military considerations and that many of the formerly
important warheads for which he had paid through the nose are regularly being
rendered obsolete by the invention and development of still better ones, so
that, with a little prompting from his unconscious, he will rebel in some way
against the existing regime and thereby bring about a state of internal crisis,
which would not be the best thing for national security!
PHILIP: Indeed, I
entirely agree with much of what you are saying, especially with regard to the
virtual inevitability of another major war.
For I don't see how the major nations can possibly refrain, eventually,
from justifying their military expenditure, et cetera, in the usual
fashion. Like Bertrand Russell, whose
essay The
Future of Mankind is most relevant in this context, I don't
see how the peoples directly afflicted by the tensions engendered by
ideological division can possibly tolerate the perpetuation of such tensions
for ever - tensions which can only worsen with the passing of time. So much as I may abhor the prospect of a
nuclear war, I can no more convince myself that it will never happen ... than I
can convince myself that a divided earth would successfully be able to defend
itself against a strong alien aggressor should the armies of a hostile planet
subsequently decide to invade it, since a divided planet, much as it may be
adequately prepared for a world war, would certainly be ill-equipped to deal
with an interplanetary one.
MARK: Because it would
refuse to become an integrated whole in the face of alien opposition?
PHILIP: No, not
entirely. For even with the best
intentions in the world it would be unable to become an integrated whole in
that event, since an ideological confrontation between capitalism and
socialism, or liberalism and some form of communism, no matter how
democratized, would still exist even then.
But, more importantly, because its current warheads are not programmed
and designed for an interplanetary war, i.e. to repel an attack from outer
space, but only for a war fought solely on this earth. So it's inconceivable that it would be able
to adequately defend itself, should such a situation arise in the foreseeable
future. Only once a world war had been
fought and the victorious side duly brought the losers under the rule of a
central administration, could the surviving people of this planet begin to turn
their attention towards the creation and development of interplanetary
warheads, in order that they may be equipped to deal with an attack from outer
space. Admittedly, such speculation may
seem a trifle farfetched, if not unrealistic, at present, but it is of the
utmost importance to the future security of this planet that it should evolve
to a point where, with the cessation of world wars, such seemingly farfetched
speculation will subsequently become fact, and the world be obliged to
establish an ideological polarity not within itself, but in relation to the
inhabitants of a nearby solar system.
MARK: You seem highly
optimistic, I must say, not only about the probable establishment of a future
world administration but, no less incredibly, about the prospects of people
surviving a nuclear war - the worst possible kind of war? Surely there is every reason to believe that
Western civilization will be entirely destroyed, should the worst come to the
worst and the most powerful nations on earth release their pent-up barrage of
nuclear warheads!
PHILIP: Admittedly, I
may appear highly optimistic, but I can assure you that I'm doing my utmost to
be highly realistic! Whether a world
administration could be established after a nuclear war, is open to
debate. For we cannot be sure that any
future world war would be conclusive, or that it wouldn't lead to yet other
such wars. But with modern technological
advances pushing ahead as quickly as at present, both on earth and in space,
coupled to the increasing pace of man's psychic evolution these days, it seems
rather unlikely that a world administration will be all that long in coming. However, as to the survival of the human kind
should such a war come to pass, I know for a fact that some peoples, including
the Swiss and the Swedes, have taken extensive precautions to ensure that as
many of their citizens as possible are safeguarded by the use of underground
shelters, shelters which are equipped with every convenience and stored with
sufficient provisions to last their inhabitants several years. And in these elaborate shelters, people will
be almost completely immune to the physical shocks and deprivations of the
outside world.
MARK: But those
protected by such ingenious underground shelters won't really amount to a very
large percentage of the human race, will they?
PHILIP: No, that is
perfectly true. But, even so, the world
is so large that it is by no means inconceivable that a large percentage of the
human and animal populations would in any case escape death or injury by dint
of living in fairly remote regions of the earth or, alternatively, in fairly
densely-populated countries not directly implicated in the conflict, countries
which could only be peripheral targets, if at all, to the main
adversaries. But even in countries most
directly involved in our hypothetical conflict, it's quite probable that a
significant percentage of their populations would also escape death or injury,
for reasons similar to those already mentioned.
MARK: But even if
people living in the less densely-populated areas of, say, the United States
aren't directly or immediately affected by enemy missiles, isn't it likely that
they would eventually succumb if not to economic chaos then almost certainly to
radioactive pollution of the atmosphere, to the large-scale spread of nuclear
fallout?
PHILIP: Yes, of course
it is likely that many people would become a victim to spreading
radiation. But it's just as likely that
radiation wouldn't spread everywhere and that, with the accelerated pace of
evolution usually induced by the exigencies of modern warfare, a viable
technique would be devised for countering its spread and simultaneously
neutralizing its effect. After all, one
of the most advantageous consequences to emerge from the Second World War was
the development of rockets, which have since enabled man to reach the moon and
discover important things about his planetary environment, things which may
well play a far more important role in the affairs of the earth than we are yet
prepared to acknowledge. So it is as
well to bear in mind that 'out of evil cometh good'. For when it is a matter of life-and-death, the
human kind can be forced into developing technological possibilities which they
would never have thought themselves capable of in peace time. However, the extent of man's ingenuity or
resourcefulness would certainly be called into play again if the nature and
duration of the conflict so demanded.
Hence it is not altogether impossible that better systems of defence
would be evolved during the conflict than had existed in peace time. But it could well be that, in the event of a
nuclear war actually taking place, a majority of the opposing missiles would be
so effectively intercepted before they had hit their targets, that
something along the lines of a conventional war would consequently be imposed
upon the main combatants, with a further consequence that less people would be
detrimentally affected by it than might otherwise be the case. However, speculation aside, it is my firm
conviction that there would be survivors, and that they would witness the dawn
of a new age.
MARK: An utterance, if
I may say so, which makes it seem as though war is an ultimate necessity, with
a definite place in the evolution of civilization and a beneficial consequence
to those who survive it!
PHILIP: Indeed, in the
final analysis, war is ultimately necessary, as can be seen from a close study
of history and the fundamentals of human nature. For it always takes place for a definite,
valid reason, and to suppose that there will ever be an age when, no matter
what transmutations it may subsequently undergo, progress will have rendered it
entirely obsolete, is as fatuous, short-sighted, and irresponsible as to
suppose that there will ever be an age when nightmares, diseases, worries,
accidents, pains, and physical deformities will likewise have been rendered
obsolete. No matter how far we men
evolve, over the coming centuries, we shall always be subject to a dual
integrity, to good and evil in relative doses, since it's just as impossible
for us to be wholly good as to be wholly evil.
Progress may do a lot to change our various lifestyles, but it will
never change our fundamental nature, which is entirely beyond its power. Admittedly, science fiction may show us a
world whose inhabitants know nothing of war, violence, sickness, hatred, et cetera,
because science fiction is more of an art than a science and therefore has a
right to create imaginary worlds beyond the realms of plausibility. But although it points the way to the future
in some respects, it by no means does so in every respect, with a consequence
that many of the so-called 'advanced' civilizations you read about or watch on
television aren't as indicative of ethical and social progress as might at
first appear. On the contrary, they're
usually the imaginative presentation of their author's conscious or unconscious
idealism. For I don't seriously believe
that one would ever encounter a civilization anywhere in the Universe that had
no regular experience of evil and no grammatical equivalent, in consequence,
for the word 'vicissitude'.
MARK: Yes, you are
probably right, although it would be untrue to imagine that all sci-fi authors
indulge in that kind of utopian portrayal, because one also encounters
so-called 'advanced' civilizations which have been warring on one another for
years and know every conceivable vicissitude.
But you're undoubtedly right to assume that one could occasionally be
misled by such authors into taking something for a perfect society which, in
reality, would be anything but perfect.
Or, alternatively, into taking something for progress which, in reality,
would be anything but progressive. I suppose that is the danger inherent in the
kind of idealism which imagines itself the nearest thing to perfection when, in
reality, it is really a lopsided, crack-brained, highly-dubious concept that
would undoubtedly bring ruination upon anyone who was foolish or naive enough
to seriously believe in it! Indeed, it's
the old story of the perfect society always being somehow vastly different from
the society in which normal circumstances oblige one to live - a utopia that,
if one could ever experience it for any length of time, would prove to be a
hundred times worse than everyday reality.
PHILIP: And just as
many people fail to understand in the concepts of Heaven and Hell that, from a
human point of view, eternal bliss and eternal torment would be equally
execrable in the similarity of their respective extremities, so a large number
of them fail to appreciate that, strange as it may seem, life isn't being
ruined by the intermittent prevalence of nightmares, wars, floods, hardships,
diseases, brutalities, storms, frustrations, fears, doubts, angers,
earthquakes, et cetera, but protected from the ruination that would otherwise
befall it if, by some remote chance, it were to become too
one-sided.
MARK: An utterance, if
I may say so, which has all the wisdom of a Montaigne behind it and all the
insight of a Nietzsche in front of it!
PHILIP: A very
flattering remark, Mark, but one which your incomparable charm compels me to
accept, and partly on account of the fact that I have recently been reading The Maxims of
François de la Rochefoucauld, that great seventeenth-century French moralist,
and encountered one which read: 'Though we believe on occasion that we detest
flattery, it is only the flatterer's manner that we find detestable.'
MARK: Well, it's not
often that I indulge in flattery, particularly with you!
PHILIP: No, and I, for
one, very rarely grant you the opportunity to flatter me! However, in returning to what I was saying
about science fiction, I didn't intend to give you the impression that all
sci-fi authors indulge in a sort of bogus utopian speculation which, did they
but know it, does a disservice to the concept of progress, but simply that one
can encounter rather unconvincing portrayals of social progress within the
realm of science fiction. Yet, in some
respects, society never changes. There
is, to cite Nietzsche, an 'eternal recurrence' which grants a given pattern of
vicissitude to every age, and which always recurs so long as organized societies
continue to exist. Of course, man has
often dreamed, in his hard-pressed life, of a millennial utopia, a time when
all the obstacles to his ultimate happiness will have been finally overcome and
he will wallow thereafter in a sort of earthly paradise, where nothing can ever
go wrong and no external evil assail him.
But such a paradisiacal utopia is never likely to come about, not even
after the world has been unified under a central administration and the possibility
of subsequent world wars been averted.
For it's not man's fate to inherit the bliss of an earthly paradise, but
to recognize the truth of his dual nature.
Now just as modern man has overcome many problems to which his ancestors
succumbed, only to find himself beset by problems of which they never even
dreamed, so future man will overcome many of our problems, only to find himself
beset by problems unknown to us, since this is the eternal law of vicissitude,
so to speak, which makes every age to some extent the double and equal of every
other. Naturally, life can be very
cruel. But if it were all kindness, none
of us would be able to tolerate living it.
Yet that is really idle conjecture, because none of us will ever be
eligible to sample a life that was all kindness anyway since, by its one-sided
nature, it would run completely contrary to life. But if we persist in imagining that an
eternal peace on earth will bring us the Utopian Millennium, and thereby
constitute the ideal human society, we shall only have ourselves to blame when we
eventually discover, to our considerable dismay, that our souls are suffering
more from the effects of the extended peace than they would otherwise have
suffered from the experience of periodic wars.
Or, put another way, when we eventually discover that the so-called
peace we are living through isn't as peaceful as it should be, due to the fact
that the immutable dualism of our deepest selves is re-channelling our
aggression, frustration, discontent, hatred, et cetera, into everyday society
on a level which virtually turns that society into a battleground, and gives to
our various relationships, both private and public, the overtones of a civil
war.
MARK: You mean that no
amount of self-deception can prevent our fundamental nature from being itself
and somehow finding an approximate balance within the confines of a given
context, because an extended peace eventually has the effect of engendering a
subterranean civil war and, conversely, an extended war the effect of
engendering a subterranean military peace?
PHILIP: Yes, the
subterranean civil-war aspect of those populous societies which haven't
experienced an official war for some time can be seen, all too poignantly, in
the recent increase of civil disquiet - the proliferation of terrorism,
assassination, kidnapping, football hooliganism, vandalism, racial tension,
rape, industrial unrest, political instability, unemployment, et cetera, all of
which can only reach a sickening level in an age when the lengthy absence of a
tangible external enemy - or the difficulty of creating one - makes it
virtually imperative for a nation to turn its bellicose attitude inwards and to
find its chief enemies or scapegoats within itself, with the unfortunate consequence
that, instead of pulling itself together for its own good, such a nation is
gradually compelled to tear itself apart, thereby creating serious social,
economic, and political hardships. Hence
you can see why too much peace, i.e. too long a period without a tangible external
enemy, is inevitably detrimental to the internal security and integrity of a
densely populated nation. Just as too
much solitude is likewise detrimental to the internal security and integrity of
certain individuals, who may well implode.
For, in the one case, the object of hatred has to be found within
itself, whilst, in the other case, it has to be found within the
self, both cases ultimately leading to a very unhealthy situation! It remains to be seen, thereafter, how long
the nations concerned can persist in tolerating their respective internal
conflicts, both in an economic and a social sense, before circumstances
eventually compel them to avert the prospect of either wholesale anarchy and
revolution or, worse again, civil war, by provoking hostilities with a foreign
power. Then perhaps they will have every
reason to direct their attentions away from their domestic squabbles and
towards issues of a far wider and more consequential import, thereby diverting
aggression outwards. So, strange as it
may seem, there is no reason to believe that it is war which is the real threat
to the survival of organized society so much its long-term absence, and that
one shouldn't be misled by the peaceful examples of small countries like
Switzerland and Luxembourg into imagining that their traditional neutrality in
the face of European war has brought them greater sanity. For with a small and thinly-populated country
it isn't so much unparalleled wisdom that keeps them neutral ... as the fact
that their comparative military weakness virtually precludes them from
declaring hostilities. And one would do
well to bear in mind that they doubtless suffer from their neutrality in a way
which it would be difficult for those who have experience of a major war to
understand. However, nationality aside,
some men are much more outwardly placid than others and are thereby deceived by
their condition into assuming that war is unnecessary, into taking what may be
their own highly cultured viewpoint for the norm, and thus entirely overlooking
the fact that, for a majority of men, matters are really quite otherwise. Such placid types have often got into trouble
with the state for their pacifism, and more than a few have even been
imprisoned in times of war, when their persistent peace propaganda threatened
the overall security of the nation far more than enemy bombs or guns ever
did. But peace propaganda, in any age
and in whatever form, only serves to make it perfectly clear that, broadly
speaking, it isn't natural for human beings to be perpetually at peace, since,
if it were so, they wouldn't require such propaganda in the first place. In fact, they wouldn't require anything of
the kind at all.
MARK: So anti-war
propaganda is superfluous?
PHILIP: On the
contrary, it is highly useful, because it helps to create a pro-peace
psychology in people which, up to a point, is by no means a bad idea. But, like everything else, it has a time and
a place, and there are times and places when it becomes more of a hindrance to
society than an aid. Such as, for
example, during the course of a major war, when the untimely use of such
propaganda could contribute towards bringing about a capitulation which would
inevitably prove detrimental to the future interests of the country
concerned. However, there is a species
of anti-war propaganda available today which is perfectly valid in light of
what could happen to the world, should the major powers subsequently decide to
use the nuclear weapons at their disposal.
For, in that event, there would hardly be a war at all but, rather, an
instantaneous elimination of vast populations.
Paradoxical though it may appear, we must differentiate between war as
something that breaks-up peace and, in the final analysis, authenticates it,
and a foolhardy launching of nuclear missiles at vast populations of civilian
life, to the ultimate detriment not only of the millions of innocent people who
would be killed or maimed, but also to the ultimate detriment of the opposing
armies, whose millions of well-armed, well-trained men would then become
utterly superfluous. I mean, what is the
point of the capitalist/socialist, or liberal/communist, opponents having vast
armies equipped with the best possible weapons, if their nuclear warheads are
going to do all or most of the damage, and thereby render the technology,
military expertise, and 'art' of soldiering largely if not entirely
superfluous? For, when all's said and
done, nuclear weapons could become the greatest possible danger to both war and
peace alike!
MARK: You mean that
whilst a conventional war might not be a bad thing for the world as we know it,
an indiscriminate nuclear war would render conventional war obsolete, turning
the civilian populations into corpses even before their armies had reached
their respective battle lines?
PHILIP: No, I mean that
an indiscriminate nuclear war would hardly be war at all but, rather, an
experiment in clearing this planet of life in the quickest possible time! Now while war, as I understand it, may
ultimately be of some use to mankind, the threat of total extinction certainly
isn't! So it's of the utmost importance
to differentiate between them and to hope, in the honourable names of
evolution, progress, civilization, culture, humanity, et cetera, that, in the
event of a third world war, the belligerent nations will have enough sense to
keep their most lethal weapons safely under lock-and-key in honour not only of
their respective armies, navies, and air forces, but, more importantly, of all
life on this planet, no matter what its shape, colour, or size, which isn't
directly or even indirectly involved in the conflict, and which may one day
rise, phoenix-like, from the ashes of a divided world. So whilst I'm not entirely opposed to war, I
am certainly opposed to that which would put an end to both war and peace for
ever!
MARK: Yes, so am
I. Though, despite what you said earlier
about the possibility of survivors, I still don't see how the world could
escape such a dreadful fate, in the event of another world war. For even if the main parties to it initially
made a pact not to use their most lethal weapons, or only to target enemy
military installations and troop concentrations with comparatively less-lethal
ones, it's highly doubtful that they would honour such a pact as the war became
more bitter and their respective losses and grudges against one another
mounted, with the passing of time.
PHILIP: Quite so! Since it is natural for the main combatants
to become increasingly unreasonable as they suffer more from each other's
aggression, their strategic positions perhaps even deteriorating to a point
where anything is deemed permissible.
But, as I also remarked earlier, it isn't altogether impossible, in the
event of a nuclear escalation, that most of the opposing missiles would be
successfully intercepted before they reached their targets and,
furthermore, that anything approximating to a large bomber would be shot down
before it could do any serious damage over enemy territory, thus making the
dropping of large bombs a much more difficult and hazardous task than the
firing of large missiles. But war of one
kind or another there will probably always be, and if the world population
isn't to become so large that it becomes more of a danger to the survival of homo sapiens than
anything else, then it is important that it should be periodically checked or
reduced by what can only be described as the fairest means available, since
personal grudges are set aside with the indiscriminate elimination of enemy
strangers who happen to belong to a different race, creed, or ideology.
MARK: Indeed, I agree
that human population must be periodically reduced or, at any rate,
controlled. But, all the same, there is
a vast difference between reducing it for its own good and almost entirely
eliminating it! For, whatever the means
employed, there would certainly be far more people killed in a third world war
than had ever been killed in any previous one.
PHILIP: Yes, that is
probably true. But you mustn't forget
that there are far more human beings in the world today than at any earlier
time in history, and that if they continue to multiply over the next thirty
years as they have been doing over the past thirty, then not only will they be
the chief danger to themselves, but the chief danger to every other species of
life on this planet as well! So,
difficult as it may seem to us, it's virtually imperative that a future war
should cause more fatalities than any previous one did, if it isn't to become a
mere caricature of them. Nature,
remember, is greater than we, it works through and above us, and usually it
ensures that its various offspring are kept within reasonable population
bounds, that the inter-predatory principles of the animal kingdom apply equally
well in other kingdoms, too! Now although
our vanity as men may occasionally lead us to imagine that we are not subject
to it, our nature as men mostly proves the contrary. For we can no more ignore its influence than
can those species who commit mass suicide when their numbers become too great,
or those species that regularly prey upon certain other species in the
interests of both their own survival and the maintenance of an ecological
balance.
MARK: But surely the
recent fall in the birth rate in this and various other densely-populated
countries throughout the world is sufficient proof that nature has devised a
way of reducing human populations in a peaceful way at last?
PHILIP: Perhaps. But in such a way as to render modern life a
sterile thing, to make us aware that it has other ways of overcoming us and
proving to us that, for all our material benefits, our lives aren't as healthy
as they could be or, indeed, should be.
For it indicates that the will to expansion, the will to greater life,
is gradually atrophying, and that the lives of a majority of its younger adults
can't be worth much when they are either disinclined or unable to propagate at
a steadily and slowly increasing rate.
It's almost as though many young couples were secretly afraid to have
children these days, and not only because the cost of raising a family would,
under current economic conditions, prove too high, but also because they sense
that the world is overcrowded enough already, and that their offspring would
only necessitate the feeding of yet more 'superfluous' mouths. But you know what the times are like, how
expensive everything is, what economic difficulties there are, how much
unemployment there is, what housing shortages there are, what uncertainty about
the future there is, how overcrowded our cities are, and consequently what a
lack of incentive there is for so many would-be parents to start a family. So it's hardly surprising that the average
birth rate should have fallen in recent years.
However, in getting to the point of your question, this social trend is,
after all, nothing to be particularly pleased about. For it's not a way that nature has devised of
overcoming war and thereby bringing about a more peaceful and stable
society. On the contrary, it is a way
that nature has devised for bringing home to us the inadequacies of our
existing society, with its dreadful overcrowding and the detrimental
consequences this problem inevitably engenders.
We began, if you recall, by discussing domestic violence, i.e. violence
on the cinema screen, football hooliganism, vandalism, et cetera, and since then
we have digressed to discussing war, human nature, society, and population,
which, believe it or not, brings us back to where we began ... with that irate
woman's letter in the newspaper, complaining about a film she had seen, one
that was evidently too immoral for her ostensibly altruistic sensibilities to
stomach. And yet a great deal of the
alleged immorality of modern society is, in all its various guises, a direct
consequence of the size of that society.
As has been pointed out many times in the recent past, not least of all
by Carl Jung in a brilliant essay entitled The Relations Between the Ego and the
Unconscious, the larger the society the greater the amount of immorality to
be found in it. For morality mainly
depends upon the moral sense of the individual, and where there are too many
people living in close proximity, the immorality of the herd mentality comes to
play an increasingly pervasive role, as can be seen in football hooliganism and
vandalism, to name but two manifestations of contemporary anti-social
behaviour. Thus the greater the crowd,
organization, city, et cetera, the smaller becomes the individual, who
simultaneously experiences a reduction of self-respect, personal
responsibility, and self-determination, to the detriment of both himself and,
often enough, the society in which he lives.
MARK: Which is
presumably to say that if the largest cities are always the most immoral places
on earth mainly on account of their size, of the anti-social behaviouristic
influence they exert on different people in different ways, depending on their
intelligence or temperament, then it's incredibly stupid of people to expect
them to be otherwise, to imagine that their inhabitants could become more moral
and less violent if only they tried a little harder?
PHILIP: Exactly! That's just it! For it is as stupid of one to completely
overlook the behaviouristic influence of a large city - and to thereupon
imagine that a majority of people could be other and better than they are if
only they wanted to be - as it would
be to expect a man who had been thrown to the sharks to escape being eaten
alive! In fact, the point you made about
different people, different temperaments and types of people, being influenced
in different ways, only goes to prove that the woman who was annoyed by the
film she saw is just as much a victim of anti-social behaviour as anyone else,
since the letter in question was anything but pleasant and shows, once again,
how ostensibly moral, self-righteous people can indulge in evil without even
realizing it, simply because they imagine the thing they're complaining about
to be worse than themselves! But when
you really come to think about it, a person who is annoyed by a given film, and
consequently provoked into writing an abusive letter about it to the
newspapers, is little different from a person who is annoyed by a football
supporter of an opposing club, and consequently provoked into abusing him in
his own rather more brutal or vulgar fashion.
The former, as an old woman with middle-class prejudices, is simply not
in a position to act like a hooligan, whereas the latter, as a young man with
working-class prejudices, is simply not in a position to act like a prig! But in both cases - and needless to say in
countless others as well - there is an object which provokes hatred and, as
might be expected, an angry subjective response to it.
MARK: Hence the usual
misunderstandings between the different types of people as to the exact nature
of right and wrong, and consequently the usual kinds of social hypocrisy as a
result of it.
PHILIP: Ahem! More like the usual kinds of social
self-deception as a result of it! For,
whether we like it or not, it's regularly the case that people are duped by
their behaviour into sincerely believing themselves to be in the right, and
that, in considering the apparent evils of others, they completely overlook
their own evils, with the inevitable consequence that 'they know not what they
do'. But we needn't get ourselves unduly
annoyed about it as this juncture, nor pretend that we are necessarily any
better. For we are not here, after all,
to make ourselves better but to realize what we are, and thus to live according
to the essential dualistic law of our being.
And if this law demands that we occasionally be deceived as to the
nature and extent of our respective moral inclinations, well then, we have no
real option but to obey it and be deceived, since it isn't in our powers to
entirely escape it. However, let's not
talk any more about this truth or, for that matter, about any other truth,
since it's as impossible for man to live by truth alone as to ignore truth too
long and live, and we are both in need of a lengthy reprieve from its rather
stern features! Come, let us listen to
some music instead! It gives one
wonderful illusions. Or, should I say,
delusions of self-moralizing grandeur?
MARK: More like a
reprieve from the Devil's advocate, if you ask me!