by Martin George Holmes
In the fifth century BCE, the young Roman Republic was locked in a struggle for survival. The Aequi, Rome’s eastern neighbors, threatened to invade and take the city. Rome dispatched an army, but the Aequi surrounded and massacred it. In panic, the Senate endowed Cincinnatus, a retired patrician, with emergency executive powers to salvage the situation.
A delegation went to his farm, where they found him plowing the fields. Cincinnatus stoically accepted the appointment, summoned available men of military age to form a new army, and marched out to face the enemy. He won a resounding victory within a few weeks. It was a kind of victory that an ambitious man – a Julius Caesar or a Napoleon Bonaparte – could have exploited to become an emperor. But Cincinnatus respected the Roman constitution. The enemy was humbled, and so should he be humbled. Cincinnatus disbanded his special field army, relinquished executive powers, and returned to his plowshare. The Roman Senate resumed its leadership.
This story is a fitting illustration of how classical liberalism (often referred to simply as “liberalism” in this essay) envisions the military’s role in society. Of course, Cincinnatus himself was no classical liberal in the modern sense of the word. He lived before the global developments – capitalism and the Enlightenment – that made a mature articulation of liberalism possible. Nevertheless, liberals regard his cautious use of power and respect for the constitution as virtues.
And how urgently these virtues are needed today! The relationship between classical liberalism and the military has often been strained. These days, the tension is so great that many people consider them polar opposites, so that the very concept of a liberal-minded military appears absurd. They are oil and water, fire and ice. Liberals support small government, sound money, civil liberties, and peace between nations. It is therefore assumed that liberals loath militaries and take a blasé view of national security. In contrast, many military leaders and political strategists are militarists. They insist that the way to protect national security is through an aggressive foreign policy and a bloated defense budget. Such persons have little time for classical liberalism.
In reality, the liberal conception of the military is the most rational and ethical ever devised. On the one hand, it affirms the necessity of the military. Just as a police force is essential for protecting civil liberties within a state, so a military is essential for defending citizens from outside threats. On the other hand, however, the liberal emphasis on free trade, small government, sound money, and personal freedom decreases the likelihood of war. Numerous conflicts, after all, are a consequence of imperialism: a nation steals another’s land and enslaves its people, or it denies a minority the right to autonomy. Classical liberalism, by promoting self-government and personal freedom, can avoid such conflicts.
Militarism: An Intellectual Wasteland
Militarists try to poke holes in the classical-liberal approach. They claim that it is utopian and therefore reckless. Cincinnatus lived a long time ago; modern leaders do not have the luxury of scaling down the military and returning to their farms. They wail that technological advances are forever making their equipment obsolete, and that this justifies ever-larger defense budgets. They insist that scaling down their military capabilities in any way would make the nation vulnerable. Likewise, they claim that because of the changing political landscape, they must relentlessly plan against potential invasions from multiple directions by multiple adversaries. Those who object to so many resources being devoted to pondering hypotheticals, and who point out that a suspicious attitude toward other nations might exacerbate conflict, are dismissed as pacifist dreamers or fifth columnists.
These militarist criticisms do not hold water. On the one hand, liberal principles work in practice. History shows that when liberals are politically influential, relations with other states tend to improve. Britain and France have often warred against one another, and in 1858–1859 there was an invasion scare in Britain. The reason was the Orsini Affair: British radicals had assisted Italian nationalists in their attempt to assassinate Emperor Napoleon III, and many Britons feared that Napoleon would seek retribution. Patriotic fervor surged through the country. Politicians debated how best to defend the nation; young men preempted them by flocking to join the militia. Amid the frenzy of allegations and rumors, liberal politicians – notably John Bright and Richard Cobden – argued for a non-military solution: a free-trade agreement to promote economic ties between the two nations. French liberals, such as Michel Chevalier, were eager to help. The end result was the Cobden-Chevalier Treaty of 1860, which removed major tariffs and helped defuse political tension.
The early years of the United States of America also illustrate this truth. The Thirteen Colonies waged their war of independence against Britain because the latter, headed by King George III and aristocratic conservatives, had embraced tyranny. The American revolutionaries protested an overbearing parliament that taxed them without consultation, and opposed a standing army that, following France’s defeat in the Seven Years’ War, seemed unnecessarily large and expensive to maintain. The fight against Britain militarized the Thirteen Colonies to a considerable degree. However, under the leadership of George Washington, America did not degenerate into a military dictatorship. Washington lacked the mature understanding of classical liberalism that his colleagues Thomas Jefferson and James Madison possessed, especially on economic issues. But he was reliable on defense issues. Like a modern-day Cincinnatus, Washington relinquished his position as Commander-in-Chief of the Continental Army upon the end of the war. Then, after consenting to serve two terms as the republic’s first president, he resigned and retired to his rural estate.
Before Washington left, he wrote his Farewell Address, a plea for the infant United States to avoid entangling itself in foreign alliances and conflicts. He argued that “Harmony, liberal intercourse with all nations, are recommended by policy, humanity, and interest.” Washington emphasized that “The great rule of conduct for us, in regard to foreign nations, is, in extending our commercial relations, to have with them as little political connection as possible.” Although the federal government soon fell into the hands of those who advocated big government, the force of Washington’s words lingered for several generations, and helped keep the United States from the numerous foreign wars that sapped the energy of many European nations. The exception that proves the rule was the War of 1812, which America entered after prolonged British provocation, and with much opposition on the part of the general population.
Militarists might respond by saying that these examples are few and limited to the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. This argument is fallacious. Classical liberals were at their most influential in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Therefore, the examples mostly come from this period. But this does not prove that liberalism is unworkable, only that its opponents have gained the upper hand. The sordid record of the militarists upon becoming dominant gives plentiful evidence that their approach is the misguided one. Identifying these errors is not a matter of hindsight: there were almost always liberal whistleblowers who, at the time, pointed out the dangers and offered a more reasonable solution.
The Anglo-German naval arms race of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries is a good example. Imperial Germany was a burgeoning nation with a powerful economy and, increasingly, overseas responsibilities in terms of commercial shipping and colonies. Britain, the world’s dominant naval power, feared German expansion and harassed German sailors and commerce on several occasions. In response, Germany began expanding its navy. The British followed suit. Classical liberals in both countries were appalled. Britons and Germans had historically got along well: many German warships prior to this time had been built in Britain. Had classical liberals wielded greater political influence in both countries, conflict could have been avoided. But warhawks dominated both governments, which meant that military solutions, such as arms races, were given priority.
Long before the Anglo-German conflict, Cobden had pinpointed the self-defeating nature of arms races. “What is the advantage of one Power greatly increasing its army or navy? Does it not see that if it proposes such an increase for self-protection and defence the other Powers would follow its example?” The end result, he lamented, would be “universal consumption of the resources of every country in military preparations,” a state of affairs that “depriv[es] peace of half its advantages.” Cobden was no pacifist. He acknowledged that Britain, a maritime nation, required a strong navy. But he argued that its purpose should be to defend Britain’s shores and commerce. Britain’s predatory pursuit of imperial expansion, which required an ever-larger navy to defend ever-larger overseas conquests, was anathema to a healthy military policy. Imperialism and arms races squandered resources and soured relations with other powers.
Cobden’s German counterpart, Eugen Richter, the liberal leader in the German Reichstag during debates over expansion, agreed wholeheartedly. He acknowledged that Germany needed a navy to protect its shores and overseas commerce, but he could see that the scale of the expansion was financially unsustainable and politically reckless.1 Richter failed to persuade the German government to alter its course. The naval arms race reached new heights when, in 1906, the British commissioned their first dreadnought. This was a move to outstrip the Germans, since the dreadnought was a heavier battleship that rendered all others obsolete. But all it did was encourage a dreadnought arms race, together with further striving for technological advancement in all spheres. In 1914, unsurprisingly, the two nations went to war, to the benefit of neither. The dreadnought saga indicates that the militarist insistence on technological advancement often backfires. Technology does improve, and classical liberals agree that the armed forces should stay current. But militarism accelerates technological advances, which causes items to become obsolete faster, which is financially wasteful and – in many cases – unsustainable.
A more modern naval arms race took place between the United States and the Soviet Union from the 1960s to the 1990s. Following the Second World War, the United States definitively replaced Britain as the leading naval power. Its aircraft carriers projected American power overseas. Officials within the Soviet navy persuaded the government that the Soviets should challenge American hegemony, and that this would have political as well as military value. The Soviet Union poured enormous resources into establishing a strong fleet – a scandal considering that the Soviet control economy was in shambles, and that much of its population lacked basic consumer goods. Soviet battlecruisers and nuclear-armed submarines so distressed the American government that it endorsed a 600-ship naval policy. This costly plan involved reactivating four Iowa-class battleships left over from the Second World War, less because these elderly giants were militarily useful than because they looked impressive. The arms race, thankfully, did not end in full-scale war, since the Soviet Union collapsed under the weight of its internal problems in 1991. Nevertheless, because the arms race raised political tensions, it created more problems than it solved. Experience showed that the best way to deescalate the Cold War was through mutually beneficial diplomacy – for example, the reciprocal removal of nuclear missiles from Cuba (on the part of the Soviet Union) and Turkey (on the part of the United States) in the early 1960s.
The aforementioned consequences for civilian populations are worth dwelling on here. Governments gain their revenue from taxation, and the profits of the population are finite. Spending excessive amounts of money on the military deprives the economy of resources and forces the general public to tighten their belts. If the government inflates the currency to supplement the amount gained by direct taxation, the situation is made even worse. Citizens not only must pay greater taxes; now they must watch their remaining savings lose value over time. Of course, the defense industry might prosper. But as this is a misallocation of resources, society as a whole suffers, since the majority are obliged to subsidize the few.
There is also the legal aspect to consider. It has already been shown that militarist policies make war a greater possibility, and war always carries with it the curtailment of liberty. Britain had been sliding into statism for years before the First World War broke out, but the war itself exacerbated matters. The historian A. J. P. Taylor famously stated that “Until August 1914 a sensible, law-abiding Englishman could pass through life and hardly notice the existence of the state, beyond the post office and the policeman.” Four years of war shattered this vestige of liberalism: the state had conscripted men into the military, micromanaged large swaths of the economy, locked up political opponents, introduced widespread rationing, supported xenophobia, and encouraged strict censorship of news media. The same situation took place in the United States, another former bastion of classical liberalism. Germany, the country in which Eugen Richter had been elected to the Reichstag only a few years earlier, degenerated into a military dictatorship that viewed the national economy and the civilian populace as raw materials to be cajoled and sacrificed for war purposes.2
Toward a Liberal Armed Forces
Liberal philosophy, therefore, is the best way forward for nations that want to protect their territories and preserve their citizens’ wealth and freedom. But it has already been pointed out that many military leaders and their political supporters are convinced militarists. Such persons say that, lest the nation fall prey to outside enemies, they must get increased budgets and broader remits to deploy their forces proactively. They also recognize that they personally benefit from military expansion, and so they conspire to ensure that their privileged funding continues, regardless of whether it is justified. The popular name for this self-perpetuating military caste is the “military-industrial complex.” Conflict is rife within the armed forces to ensure that each faction’s hobbyhorse gets the funding. During the Second World War, the so-called Bomber Mafia within the United States Army Air Force lobbied for heavy bombers, arguing that they would win the war against the Axis Powers. Their lobbying contributed to the Allies’ fateful decision to carpet bomb Germany and Japan, killing numerous civilians and destroying priceless landmarks. In the 1960s and 1970s, the so-called Fighter Mafia replaced them, and more attention was given to developing the jet fighters that pepper the runways of American aircraft carriers.
In addition, military life tends to appeal to certain groups that, from a liberal perspective, are unfit to handle national responsibilities. These include, firstly, those who love to use and abuse power. By gaining a uniform and entering a hierarchical organization, these bullies can push around their subordinates and, in some cases, the civilian population. Glory seekers are no less problematic. Such persons dream of gaining medals and reputation. They are often willing to sacrifice any number of lives in the process. Alternatively, they might neglect the higher interests of their nation to pursue personal military glory. Winston S. Churchill certainly falls into this category. As the liberal historian Ralph Raico notes, Churchill’s one consistent belief was a love of war, to the extent that he “wished for more wars than actually happened.” As a young man, he joined the army; as a slightly older man, he became a military journalist; as a young cabinet minister, he giddily – and this is no exaggeration – helped drag Britain into the First World War. As First Lord of the Admiralty, Churchill played a crucial role in establishing the hunger blockade of Germany. This blockade killed almost one million German and Austro-Hungarian civilians. Churchill also encouraged the use of poison gas against uncompliant tribes in the colonies and authorized the full-scale carpet bombing of German cities during the Second World War.
Even military officers who proclaim themselves liberals can fall victim to unhealthy ways. In the popular imagination, Admiral Lord Cochrane, a Scottish aristocrat, is the paragon of a liberal-minded military officer. One must concede that he chalked up some very real achievements to his name. During the Napoleonic Wars, he assisted Spanish guerillas combatting the French occupation of the Iberian Peninsula. He also found time to return to England and run for Parliament as a radical. Cochrane then served as an admiral in three nations struggling for independence: Chile against Spain, Brazil against Portugal, and Greece against the Ottomans. Despite his achievements, Cochrane loved the thrill of battle and the spoils of victory too much. He never stayed in the lands he helped to liberate, even though they required upright leaders to help them endure the first tumultuous years of independence, when there was the prospect of economic collapse and political instability. Cochrane also plundered the public and private property of the citizenry he claimed to be liberating. Most heinously of all, Cochrane finished his career defending the British Empire as it moved into an imperialist phase, and urged – like Churchill – the use of poison gas against the enemy (in this case, the Russians).
This is not to say that everyone interested in military life is some kind of bloodthirsty lunatic. There are those who, emulating Cincinnatus and George Washington, enlist out of a sense of duty. They recognize that the nation needs defending, that they have the skill to do the job, and that they are morally obliged to undertake the role. A love of glory and military panache may animate their hearts, but it does not overpower their loyalty to the constitution. For example, in the early twentieth century, one of the most vocal opponents of conscription in Britain was a high-ranking soldier, General Sir Ian Hamilton. Liberally inclined and warm hearted, Hamilton tried to be chivalrous on the battlefield, and he recognized that conscription was politically dangerous and contrary to British traditions. He argued that the armed forces should remain voluntary, and that if the nation required more soldiers and sailors, it must persuade citizens to volunteer. It is a testament to the legacy of British liberalism that, even as statist politicians were embracing militarism wholesale, old soldiers like Hamilton still existed and upheld constitutional principles.
No military today approximates the liberal ideal, because all nations today are on an anti-liberal path. Some have wandered farther down this path than others. Nevertheless, they are all committed to a fiat currency that depreciates the wealth of ordinary citizens. They all support an overbearing state that interferes with various industries and with personal liberties. The great powers, in particular, are still involved in arms races and imperial rivalries, a good example being the perpetual war dance between the American and Chinese navies in the Taiwanese Strait. As a result, one struggles to find military leaders and policy makers who advocate the liberal approach, or who are even willing to consider it as a serious option.
Consequently, the best way to promote the liberal approach to military affairs is to promote a liberal approach to politics more generally. Liberals have to persuade more people that the statist program, of which militarism is one aspect, is self-destructive. Recent history shows that militarism destroys wealth, poisons relations between peoples, and erodes civil liberties. Liberals also have to emphasize that their policies, when put into practice, promote international cooperation and make warfare less likely. They must show that liberalism, far from being utopian, is as realistic as cold steel. Liberal whistleblowers earn themselves a place in the history books for precisely this reason. Washington’s warning against seeking out foreign conflicts, Cobden’s criticism of the Crimean War, Richter’s foreboding statements about German naval expansion – all have been vindicated in the clear light of history, as perceptive scholars have seen that empirical evidence accords with liberal theory.
Rather than being ashamed of their theoretical understanding of politics, therefore, classical liberals should embrace it and illustrate its relevance in today’s turbulent world. Let them read Ludwig von Mises and Friedrich Hayek on economics, Ralph Raico and Robert Higgs on history, and Judge Andrew Napolitano and Frédéric Bastiat on law. By persuading others of classical liberalism’s value, the influence of liberal ideas will spread throughout society. Eventually, many military leaders and policy makers will take notice. Then, perhaps, the military’s proper role in global affairs will become evident to them, and the world can become a safer and more prosperous place.
NOTES
- Sebastian Rojek, Versunkene Hoffnungen: Die Deutsche Marine im Umgang mit Erwartungen und Enttäuschungen, 1871–1930 (Berlin: De Gruyter Oldenbourg, 2017), 66–67; Ina Susanne Lorenz, Eugen Richter: Der entscheidene Liberalismus in wilhelminischer Zeit, 1871–1906 (Husum: Matthiesen, 1981). ↩︎
- For a broad discussion of this international trend, which includes some information on Germany, see T. Hunt Tooley, “Some Costs of the Great War: Nationalizing Private Life,” The Independent Review 14, no. 2 (Fall 2009): 165–174. ↩︎
Martin George Holmes is a historian with a PhD from the University of Otago. He specializes in the religious and political history of the British Empire. Send him mail.
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