.
The Alchemy of Adjustment |
| [Reprinted from The
Freeman, February, 1942] |
The art of war is intricate and highly technical. The business of war
demands the subordination of the individual will to the will of those in
charge of it. These are two reasons why the ordinary citizen is an
incompetent judge of the strategy or the politics of war during its
progress. The necessary blackout of information essential to any
understanding of its military or political direction makes speculation
about it largely guesswork.
So, let us leave this business to the generals and statesmen and be
done with it. We are in it, have nothing to say about it, can have no
part in it except that which our leaders assign to us. While (he best of
us do the fighting, and all of us contribute to its cost, we can only
hope and pray that these leaders know what they are about. That's all we
can do, and, war being what it is, that's all we should try to do. The
assumption that any of us is more than a cog in the wheel is silly, and
furthermore tends toward irrational behavior.
There is, however, one thing we all need to remember: there will be an
end to the war sometime. It is important to remember that, because if we
do not we will find our ways of thinking so completely changed that we
may not be able to recapture the ideas which before the war seemed good
to us. It is not impossible that the civilization we knew may largely
pass from our memory.
No people can emerge from an experience like war with unscarred souls.
Our changed political situation is only an indication that we have been
inured to new social concepts. The most lasting and devastating result
of a harrowing experience is what it docs to us mentally and
spiritually.
The human being cannot remain sound in mind and body under the constant
impact of shock. We soon learn to "roll with punches." Going
without seems hard at first, but necessity contrives a comfortable
arrangement with scarcity, just as one afflicted with a physical
handicap manages to meet the situation. So, too. with battles; we soon
learn that one is like another, and the intensity of headline-reading
simmers off. Our sensibilities become blunted because they must.
The constant imminence of death tends toward a re-evaluation of life.
Is existence really so important? And if existence loses its importance,
how about the moral values which formerly gave life substance and
meaning? Only the living strive for liberty: only the prospect of life
gives rise to the search for justice.
The combatants in the presence of death are not alone in this
compromise with futility. Every segment of society feels the crash of
human values and seeks surcease from the violence of confusion in
confusion itself. "Today is today, let tomorrow take care of itself"
is the escapism that existence demands -- and the alchemy of adjustment
deteriorates the ideals of living into the dross of mere existence.
Perhaps it is inevitable that for the time being the ideals be
suspended. The danger is in their being forgotten. Ideals do not live in
a vacuum; they are born, developed and are retained in the human mind.
They are recorded on the tablets of memory, and the peril is that in
drifting into a reasonably comfortable existence in a world of violence
we may wipe the tablets clean. For one sleeps better when one strives
for less.
But there will be a tomorrow. There will always be a tomorrow. And it
is the burden of those in whose memories the values of liberty and
justice are deeply engraved to preserve the tablets for that tomorrow.
That it will be difficult to harbor these memories is all the more
reason for so doing. The truth must have friends "who will toil for
it; suffer for it; if need be, die for it. This is the power of Truth."
|