第八十七章《胡适英文论著：中国外交》（4）

  第八十七章《胡适英文论著：中国外交》（4）

  Dewey's answer to this question begins with the observation that "Force figures in different roles. Sometimes it is energy; sometimes it is coercion or constraint; sometimes it is violence."
  "Energy is power used with a eulogistic meaning; it is power of doing work, harnessed to accomplishment of ends. But it is force none the less—brute force if you please, and rationalized only by its results." Power or energy "denotes effective means of operation; ability or capacity to execute, to realize ends." "It means nothing but the sum of conditions available for bringing the desirable end into existence." "It is force by which we excavate subways and bridges, and travel and manufacture. It is force which is utilized in spoken argument or published book. Not to depend upon and utilize force is simply to be without a foothold in the real world."
  "Exactly the same force running wild is called violence. The objection to violence is not that it involves the use of force, but that it is a waste of force: that it uses force idly or destructively."
  "Energy becomes violence when it defeats or frustrates purpose instead of executing or realizing it. When the dynamite charge blows up human beings instead of rocks, when its outcome is waste instead of production, destruction instead of construction, we call it not energy, but violence."
  "Coercive force occupies a middle place between power as energy and power as violence." "There are different centers of force and they go their ways independently. They come into conflict; they clashtwo menare driving opposite ways on the road and their vehicles collide. The subsequent waste in quarreling is as certain as the immediate waste in the smash-up. The rule that each shall turn to the right is a plan for organizing otherwise independent and potentially conflicting energies into a scheme which avoids waste, a scheme allowing a maximum utilization of energy. Such," says Dewey, "if I mistake not, is the true purport of all law."
  The most important thing in this theory is that it completely ignores the conventional connotation and treats "force" as power or energy which achieves ends. It becomes violence only when it runs wild and results in waste or destruction. "No ends," says Dewey, "are accomplished without the use of force The criterion of value lies in the relative efficiency and economy of the expenditure of force as a means to an end."
  The other important contribution made by Dewey is his theory of law as the formulation of the conditions of the organization of force. Law and government are instrumentalities instituted to deal with a situation of "actual or potential conflict and resulting waste in the absence of some scheme for distributing the energies involved." The same criterion of economy and efficiency holds here. "To use energy to make a man observe the rule of the road is a case of coercive force When it is exercised to assure the means which are needed for the successful realization of ends, it is a case of constructive use of power."
  Dewey's instrumentalistic conception of force and of law naturally led him to view with favor the idea of an international league to enforce peace. "If law or rule is simply a device for securing such a distribution of forces as keeps them from conflicting with one another, the discovery of a new social arrangement is the first step in substituting law for war." "Unless pacifism puts its faith in constructive inventive intelligence instead of in an appeal to emotions and in exhortation, the disruptive unorganized forces of the world will continue to develop outbreaks of violence."
  "The passage of force under law occurs only when all the cards are on the table, when the objective facts which bring conflicts in their train are acknowledged, and when intelligence is used to devise mechanisms which will afford to the forces at work all the satisfaction that conditions permit."
  I have dug out of the now more or less forgotten writings of twenty-five years ago this simple and reasonable philosophy of force and of the organization of force (which is law). I believe that such a philosophy is badly needed as an intellectual aid to the popular understanding, appreciation and support of the idea of an international order based upon overwhelming force behind law. It will help us to realize that what is wrong with the international situation today is not that force prevails, but that force does not prevail. It will help us to understand that the real tragedy of mankind today is that the nations have never learned to use force effectively and efficiently, that a stupendous amount of power is being expended in most wasteful and destructive ways, and that force cannot prevail when it is not organized and directed towards some common beneficial end. It will help us to see that the real problem for the present and for the future is not to condemn force in toto , nor to despair of peace and order in the face of unprecedented violence and destruction, but rather to prepare world opinion for another and more intelligent "push" to organize the available power of the nations in such a manner as to avoid waste and destruction and insure maximum efficiency and economy in its expenditure. It will help us to realize that probably the most efficient and economical use of force in human society is to socialize and internationalize it—to place overwhelming force behind the maintenance of international peace and order.
  To Win and Keep the Peace
  The Peabody Reflector
  Dec., 1942. Vol. 15. No. 11. pp. 406-408.
  Naturally we are all deeply interested in the future, in the outcome of the present war and of the peace that will follow. We are all confident that the United Nations will come out completely victorious in our common war against our common enemies. But we are also interested in the kind of peace, the kind of future world, that will come after this war.
  Will this war be really the last war that will end all wars? Or will it end as all past wars ended—only to break out again with ever-increasing brutality and deadliness?
  Will the new world after the war be nearer to our heart's desire and worthy of all the great sacrifices of mankind? Or, will all our work, hardship, sacrifice and suffering be once more in vain?
  The objectives for which we are fighting have been clearly stated by the great leaders of the United Nations. They are summarized in the 8 principles of the "Atlantic Charter" which, as President Roosevelt said on February 23, 1942,"applies not only to the parts of the world that border the Atlantic, but to the whole world."
  These principles of the Atlantic Charter are:
  (1) No territorial or other aggrandizement.
  (2) No territorial changes that do not accord to the freely expressed wishes of the peoples concerned.
  (3) Self-determination of all peoples as to the form of government under which they will live; and restoration of sovereign rights and self-government to those who have been forcibly deprived of them.
  (4) Access by all nations, on equal terms, to the trade and raw materials of the world needed for their economic prosperity.
  (5) Collaboration of all nations in the economic fields to secure improved labor conditions and social security.
  (6) Establishment of "a peace which will afford to all nations the means of dwelling in safety within their own boundaries, and which will afford assurance that all the men in all the lands may live out their lives in freedom from fear and want."
  (7) Freedom of the seas.
  (8) Ultimate abandonment of the use of force by all nations; and, "pending the establishment of a wider and permanent system of general security,"the disarmament of those nations "which threaten or may threaten aggression outside their frontiers."
  In a joint declaration signed on January 1, 1942, the 26 "United Nations"have signified their subscription to this common program of purposes and principles.
  Such, then, are the accepted objectives of your country, my country, and our associates in our common fight.
  The question that is now uppermost in our mind, is, How much assurance is there for the realization of these great principles? Will they be mutilated as the great principls of Woodrow Wilson were mutilated at the Peace Conference? Will the disarming of the aggressors, for example, be more successful than the disarming of Germany after the last war? Will the peace, which is to afford general security to all nations be more effective and more enduring than the League of Nations?
  We all have a right to ask these questions. The young men who are already in the fighting forces, or are being called to the services; the men and women who are working in the war industries, and the men and women who are making all forms of sacrifices for victory,—all these have a right to ask these questions, and are actually asking them.
  Can our faith in these principles be given some measure of reassurance?
  No man can satisfactorily answer these questions or satisfactorily reassure us in our faith in these great objectives. The kind of peace that will follow the war, and the kind of "new order" that will be created, will entirely depend upon the vision, the wisdom, the effort which the leaders of the nations can apply to the task of making the peace, and upon the intelligent support which those leaders will receive from their peoples.
  In other words, the future will be what the leaders and the peoples of the world can make of it.
  But, as a student of history, I would like to speculate on the future possibilities of these peace objectives in the light of the historical lessons of the last world war. I believe that a study of the causes which were responsible for the failure of the Wilsonian program of peace may help us to form some idea of the possibilities of success in the realization of the Roosevelt-Churchill program of world peace.
  From this historical view, I have formed my personal belief that we have a better chance to win a just and effective peace this time than the last time. My opinion is based on the fact that some of the historical causes which defeated Wilson and his idealistic peace program fortunately either no longer exist today or exist only in much diminished force.
  In the first place, there are no aggressor states among the allied and associated nations on our side.
  You will recall that the group of Allied Powers which fought Germany in the last war, included Japan and Tsarist Russia. It was too unholy an alliance to be a fertile soil for Wilsonian idealism. It was after the March (1917) Revolution in Russia that Wilson felt more at ease in deciding to associate with the Allied Nations in the war.
  In this respect, the international alignment in the present war is much more clearly and rationally defined. All the aggressor states have now flocked together by idealogical affinity, and the 28 United Nations on the whole can be classed as a group of peaceful and peace-loving nations, eager to co-operate to bring about a just and durable peace.
  In the second place, there exist among the United Nations no secret treaties of territorial aggrandizement or division of spoils.
  The last war began as a purely old-fashioned war of power politics and only at very late stages took on some idealistic coloring under the impact of Wilsonian influence. This new conversion came so late that many secret treaties of intrigue, bribery, and division of spoils had long been concluded among the Allied Powers. It was those secret treaties which later caused so much trouble for Wilson both at Paris and in America. The Wilson program of idealistic peace was mutilated and wrecked largely by these secret treaties.
  In this respect, the Second World War presents a much more favorable outlook for the future. The present war has from the very beginning assumed the general character of a clearly defined fight for national freedom against wanton aggression. From the British and French pledges to Poland and Greece in 1939, the Atlantic Charter of 1941 and the United Nations Declaration of 1942, to the Soviet-British treaty of May, 1942, there have been no secret treaties of bribery or territorial aggrandizement concluded among the countries which now form the United Nations. The absence of secret treaties and the existence of such open and idealistic declarations as the Atlantic Charter, I believe, will greatly enhance the chances of success of idealistic and constructive statesmanship in the peace-making after this war.
  In the third place, I believe the world has learned much in these terrible years, and may be more ready to recognize the need for a better and more effective peace.
  The world at large in 1919 certainly was not quite ready to understand and accept the Wilson principles. The armistice of November, 1918, came so unexpectedly early that even the best minds were not fully prepared for the great task ahead. Many nations,—the neutrals and even some of the allies and associates in the war,—had not been severely touched by the evil effects of the war. The radio had not come; the airplane was still a novel and ineffective weapon; the great space of the oceans still gave ample protection to several continents. Many peoples still thought that it was possible to keep out of wars, however gigantic they might be. Neutrality and isolation were still considered possible. And to many people, Wilsonianism appeared shockingly aggressive in trying to interfere in world politics.
  In this respect, we have learned better—at least we should have learned better in these years.
  There are now practically no neutral countries left in Europe or anywhere else. The most peaceful and most peace-loving countries have been ruthlessly invaded and conquered by the aggressors. The greatest oceans no longer afford protection to the formerly isolated nations. The most powerful nation in the world,—the United States,—has been attacked and has suffered unprecedented defeats.
  All these have brought about a new and more realistic way of thinking on world affairs. President Roosevelt, in his speech of December 9, 1941, has put it most forcefully:
  "It is our obligation to our dead—it is our sacred obligation to their children and our children—that we must never forget what we have learned.
  "And what we all have learned is this:
  "There is no such thing as security for any nation—or any individual—in a world ruled by the principles of gangsterism.
  "There is no such thing as impregnable defense against powerful aggressors who sneak up in the dark and strike without warning.
  "We have learned that our ocean-girt hemisphere is not immune from severe attack—that we cannot measure our safety in terms of miles on any map."
  Full realization of such undeniable facts should inevitably lead to the conviction that the world has not been made safe for democracy, not even for the most powerful of the democracies, and that there is real necessity for the effective establishment of "a peace that will afford to all nations the means of dwelling in safety within their own boundaries." Such psychological preparedness will probably increase with the progress of the war and may pave the way for the statesmen who are to "win the peace" for all of us and our children.
  These, then, are some of the historical lessons which have given me personally some ground for a more hopeful outlook regarding the possibilities of realizing the great program of future peace as outlined in the Atlantic Charter. For these reasons, I believe that the United Nations have a better chance to win the peace this time than the last time.
  But, I must warn you, the task is tremendous and over-optimism may be unwarranted. Much remains to be done by all of us in order to prepare ourselves and our fellowmen for the great task ahead.
  Let me warn you, if we wish to win the peace after this war, much clear thinking will be necessary. For there will surely be a great deal of prejudice for us to help to break down and there will be a great deal of loose and irresponsible thinking for us to help combat.
  Let me give you an example of the kind of prejudiced and loose thinking which has paralyzed and will continue to paralyze all effective efforts in constructive international planning. I refer to the deep-rooted prejudice against the use of "force" as the necessary element for the enforcement of peace and order.
  You have no doubt heard this prejudice expressed in various forms. Fundamentally it is this: that force is something essentially evil, something to be avoided as incompatible with any new and higher order of international relationship.
  I say this is a prejudice and a form of loose thinking, because it is entirely based upon an unfortunate association of the word "force."
  A quarter of a century ago, John Dewey, the great American philosopher, wrote: "No ends are accomplished without the use of force." "It is force by which we excavate subways and bridges, and travel and manufacture." Substitute the word "power" for "force," and these sentences will sound fine. And substitute the word "energy" for "force," and they even sound scientific!
  Dewey points out that "force" figures in different roles: "sometimes it is energy; sometimes it is coercion or constraint; sometimes it is violence." Force becomes violence only when it runs wild, is not directed to constructive ends, and is therefore wasted. When force is organized as a public instrumentality to deal with actual or potential conflict of forces, it becomes the cornerstone of law and government, of peace and order.
  The best example of the use of organized coercive force for a common and constructive end is the traffic lights at your street corners. These mechanically controlled red and green lights which are not watched by policemen armed with pistols or machine guns are effectively obeyed because the people have learned to recognize that these mechanical devices are symbols of the law and public order and that the organized force of the community is behind them for their enforcement.
  But because in a civilized society the actual resort to force is reduced to a minimum, the peace-loving and law-abiding citizens tend to lose sight of the important role of force in the maintenance of peace and order. They tend to forget that law, order and peace do not mean the absence of force, but, on the contrary, are always dependent upon some form of effectively organized power for their enforcement against possible violation by determined gangsters.
  The international order set up after the last world war was probably good enough for the peaceful and peace-loving nations such as Denmark, Switzerland, China and the United States. But it was not good enough for the premeditated and determined aggressor states such as Japan, Italy and Germany. That international order became "sham and pretense" as soon as it was challenged by those armed aggressors and was found powerless to enforce its own law and order.