28. Right of self-defence
The lawfulness of defensive war is commonly simplified to The Right of Self-Defence. This is one of the strongholds of the defender of war, the almost final fastness to which he retires:
“The instinct of self-preservation,” it is said, “is an instinct of nature; and since this instinct is implanted by God, whatever is necessary to self-preservation is accordant with his will.
This is specious, but like many other specious arguments, it is sound in its premises, but, as I think, fallacious in its conclusions:
That the instinct of self-preservation is an instinct of nature is clear. That, because it is an instinct of nature, we have a right to kill other men is not clear.
The fallacy of the whole argument appears to consist in this:
that it assumes that an instinct of nature is a law of paramount authority.
God has implanted in the human system various propensities or instincts, of which the purposes are wise.
These propensities tend in their own nature to abuse; and when gratified or followed to excess, they become subversive of the purposes of the wisdom which implanted them, and destructive of the welfare of mankind.
He has therefore instituted a superior law, sanctioned by his immediate authority. By this law, we are required to regulate these propensities.
The question, therefore, is not whether the instinct of self-preservation is implanted by nature but whether Christianity has restricted its operation. By this, and by this only, the question is to be determined.
Now, he who will be at the trouble of making the inquiry will find that a regulation of the instincts of nature, and a restriction of their exercise, is a prominent object of the Christian morality; and I think it is plain that this regulation and restriction apply to the instinct before us.
That some of these propensities are to be restrained is certain.
One of the most powerful instincts of our nature is an affection to which the regulating precepts of Christianity are peculiarly directed.
I do not maintain that any natural instinct is to be eradicated, but that all of them are to be regulated and restrained; and I maintain this of the instinct of self-preservation.
The establishment of this position is, indeed, the great object of the present inquiry:
What are the dispositions and actions to which the instinct of self-preservation prompts, but actions and dispositions that Christianity forbids?
They are non-forbearance, resistance, and retaliation of injuries.
The truth is, that it is to defence that the peaceable precepts of Christianity are directed. Offence appears not to have even suggested itself.
It is “Resist not evil”; it is “Overcome evil with good”; it is “Do good to them that hate you”; it is “Love your enemies”; it is “Render not evil for evil”; it is “Whoso smiteth thee on one cheek.”
- All this supposes previous offence, injury, or violence; and it is then that forbearance is enjoined.
“The chief aim,” says a judicious author, “of those who argue in behalf of defensive war is directed at the passions,” and accordingly, the case of an assassin will doubtless be brought against me.
I shall be asked, “Suppose a ruffian breaks into your house, and rushes into your room with his arm lifted to murder you. Do you not believe that Christianity allows you to kill him?”
- This is the last refuge of those who support war.
- My answer to it is explicit – I do not believe it.
I have referred to this utmost possible extremity because I am willing to meet objections of whatever nature,
and because, by stating this, which is enforced by all our prejudices and all our instincts, I shall at least show that I give to those who differ from me a fair, open, and candid recognition of all the consequences of my principles.
I would, however, beg the same candour of the reader, and remind him, that were they unable to abide this test, the case of the ruffian has little practical reference to war.
I remind him of this, not because I doubt whether our principles can be supported, but because, if he should think that in this case I do not support them, he will yet recollect that very few wars are proved to be lawful.
Of the wars that are prosecuted,
- some are simply wars of aggression;
- some are for the maintenance of a balance of power;
- some are in assertion of technical rights;
- and some, undoubtedly to repel invasion.
The last are perhaps the fewest, and of these only it can be said that they bear any analogy whatever to the case which is supposed; and even in these, the analogy is seldom complete.
It has rarely indeed happened that wars have been undertaken simply for the preservation of life, and that no other alternative has remained to a people than to kill or to be killed.
And let it be remembered, that unless only this alternative remains, the case of the ruffian is irrelevant; it does not apply practically to the subject.