Glances at History
This is from Mark Twain’s Glances at History, part of an unfinished work about the civilization that flourished between the creation of Adam and Noah’s flood..
The introductory paragraph and the bit about Adam at the end serve as a fig leaf to allow Clemens to pretend that he’s not talking about the Philippine-American war. See for yourself how much of it still rings true 100 years later.
* * * In a speech which he made more than 500 years ago, and which has
come down to us intact, he said:
We, free citizens of the Great Republic, feel an honest pride in her
greatness, her strength, her just and gentle government, her wide
liberties, her honored name, her stainless history, her unsmirched
flag, her hands clean from oppression of the weak and from malicious
conquest, her hospitable door that stands open to the hunted and the
persecuted of all nations; we are proud of the judicious respect in
which she is held by the monarchies which hem her in on every side,
and proudest of all of that lofty patriotism which we inherited from
our fathers, which we have kept pure, and which won our liberties in
the beginning and has preserved them unto this day. While that
patriotism endures the Republic is safe, her greatness is secure, and
against them the powers of the earth cannot prevail.
I pray you to pause and consider. Against our traditions we are now
entering upon an unjust and trivial war, a war against a helpless
people, and for a base object—robbery. At first our citizens
spoke out against this thing, by an impulse natural to their training.
To-day they have turned, and their voice is the other way. What caused
the change? Merely a politician’s trick—a high-sounding phrase,
a blood-stirring phrase which turned their uncritical heads: Our
Country, right or wrong! An empty phrase, a silly phrase. It was
shouted by every newspaper, it was thundered from the pulpit, the
Superintendent of Public Instruction placarded it in every
school-house in the land, the War Department inscribed it upon the
flag. And every man who failed to shout it or who was silent, was
proclaimed a traitor—none but those others were patriots. To be
a patriot, one had to say, and keep on saying, “Our Country, right or
wrong,” and urge on the little war. Have you not perceived that that
phrase is an insult to the nation?
For in a republic, who is “the country?” Is it the Government
which is for the moment in the saddle? Why, the Government is merely a
servant—merely a temporary servant; it cannot be its
prerogative to determine what is right and what is wrong, and decide
who is a patriot and who isn’t. Its function is to obey orders, not
originate them. Who, then, is “the country?” Is it the newspaper? is
it the pulpit? is it the school-superintendent? Why, these are mere
parts of the country, not the whole of it; they have not command, they
have only tier little share in the command. They are but one in the
thousand; it is in the thousand that command is lodged; they
must determine what is right and what is wrong; they must decide who
is a patriot and who isn’t.
Who are the thousand—that is to say, who are “the country?” In a
monarchy, the king and his family are the country; in a republic it is
the common voice of the people. Each of you, for himself, by himself
and on his own responsibility, must speak. And it is a solemn and
weighty responsibility, and not lightly to be flung aside at the
bullying of the pulpit, press, government, or the empty catch-phrases
of politicians. Each must for himself alone decide what is right and
what is wrong, and which course is patriotic and which isn’t. You
cannot shirk this and be a man. To decide it against your convictions
is to be an unqualified and inexcusable traitor, both to yourself and
to your country, let men label you as they may. If you alone of all
the nation shall decide one way, and that way be the right way
according to your convictions of the right, you have done your duty by
yourself and by your country—hold up your head! you have nothing to
be ashamed of.
Only when a republic’s life is in danger should a man uphold
his government when it is in the wrong. There is no other time.
This republic’s life is not in peril. The nation has sold its honor
for a phrase. It has swung itself loose from its safe anchorage and is
drifting, its helm is in pirate hands. The stupid phrase needed help,
and it got another one: “Even if the war be wrong we are in it and
must fight it out: we cannot retire from it without
dishonor.” Why, not even a burglar could have said it better. We
cannot withdraw from this sordid raid because to grant peace to those
little people upon their terms—independence—would dishonor
us. You have flung away Adam’s phrase—you should take it up and
examine it again. He said, “An inglorious peace is better than a
dishonorable war.”
You have planted a seed, and it will grow.