At the eleventh hour, on the eleventh day of the eleventh month in 1918, the Great War ended. In his speech to the House of Commons that same day, David Loyd George pronounced his hope for the signing of the armistice to, in fact, be an end to all wars. We know now that this sentiment has never reigned true. On Remembrance Day, we commemorate the sacrifice and bravery of our WWI soldiers and all those who have served and continue to serve the Australian Defence Force in all wars and conflicts since the Great War. Whilst today marks a momentous collective mourning in a fleeting minute of silence, we must reflect upon how we may change the meaning of this day from here forward.
This is not to suggest that the past may be altered, that narratives should be constructed, nor that silence should prevail, but rather as the new generation and the inevitable soldiers in conflicts to come, we should take this day further than the minute’s reflection. What I pose to you today, goes beyond physical violence and bravery. Instead, I emphasise the contemplation of what war is and whether it is intrinsic to the modern human condition. Is war and conflict inherent to human nature? Is it a societal disease or confined to the powers that command it? I think that war can only be solved by understanding human nature and its interaction with society, something we have yet to comprehend.
The pursuit of understanding human nature is central to philosophical, historical and scientific dialogue. We question whether certain peculiarities of the human experience are inherent or learnt. No consensus exists apart from perhaps the instinct to survive. What I seek to understand, however, is whether conflict is inherent to the human. Do we start wars simply because they are fundamental to our being? In Herodotus’s, The Histories, he asserts that “no one is so senseless as to choose of his own will war rather than peace.” However, if we hold this to be true, we must wonder why conflict endures. If the man inherently pursues peace over war, why does conflict exist? Even at its most basic level, conflict occurs in our everyday humdrum routine. A car cuts another off at a lane change, provoking expletives, perhaps even a throwing of the bird; A man negligently bumps into another in a crowed bar, instigating stern words, a dirty look, and even a fist to his jaw. These simple disagreements seem inextricable from our lives. Has a single person lived without conflict? Can they?
In the mind of Thomas Hobbes, our existence is contingent upon a relentless desire for power, which inevitably causes conflict. To this end, he believed that society and authority were the only barriers against constant war. Similarly, Sigmund Freud’s Instinct Theory constructs war as a consequence of two human instincts; Eros, our inherent unifying creative drive; and Thanatos, our aggressive and destructive nature engineered by the death instinct. When Eros and Thanatos are united towards a common cause, for instance, racial and national supremacy in Nazi Germany, the human is blindly thrust into the throes of war.
When reflecting upon the Great War and its causes whether it be alliances, nationalism, economic rivalry, the British-German naval arms race, or even the assassination of Franz Ferdinand, we see aggression united against a common enemy. However, to accept this premise, humans must have these instincts without influence. By this, I mean that a baby must be born with aggression and unity, it cannot be manipulated by the societies that surround it to develop these instincts. Without society, would the baby be aggressive or seek a unified community? Or is this baby capable of peace?
To this end, Jean-Jaques Rousseau would argue that this baby, in its natural state, is only motivated by amour de soi—self-love. This baby is capable of peace. But are we? If we do not seek conflict naturally, is society to blame? War and conflict are interwoven into the fabric of human history, some may even argue that it is the divine thread that holds our social history together. Thus, if war is a product of human organisation, or what we know as society, what aspects of human union cause conflict? Yuval Noah Harari’s award-winning depiction of human history, Sapiens, details the historic wars of mankind as a product of all societies rather than of human nature. In essence, Harari proposes that aggression and evolution are the primary hallmarks of mankind, asserting that whilst war leads to great destruction, it also fuels innovation.
In this sense, conflict is a double-edged sword; WWII led to a devasting loss of life and geopolitical instability but simultaneously drove scientific advancements, including antibiotics and radar technology; The Vietnam War caused damage but also stimulated shifts in public opinion on military action and government in America; and in earlier conflicts such as the Napoleonic wars, evolutionary concepts of nationalism and political identities were shaped off the back of a great loss. Hence, war seems essential to societal development. Harari argues that the human ability to form complex and cohesive groups with intricate ideologies and power structures inherently leads to conflict. Where power and resources are finite, conflict is essentially inevitable in human society. What I then wonder is whether we would have progressed socially, economically and technologically to this degree if we did not have wars to shape and motivate human advancement. Do we need war?
In his Socratic dialogue, The Republic, Plato argues that war is not essential to nor inescapable for human societies. Like Harari’s view, Plato asserts that conflict is not inextricable from human nature. Instead, he believes that human passions—such as the pursuit of power, pride and wealth create conflict through competition and rivalries. At the epicentre of The Republic is Plato’s utopia, where conflict is minimised and ideally obsolete.
You may wonder how he achieves this. The answer is not necessarily practical nor is it compatible with our modern conception of democratic society. Plato’s ideal society employs a tripartite hierarchal class structure consisting of: The ruling class, the Philosopher Kings with extensive education; the Guardians, undertaking the protection of the state and enforcement of its laws; and finally, the producers, responsible for specific trades and the production of resources. Within this system, only the Philosopher Kings can vote, favouring meritocracy over democracy, since in Plato’s mind most people lack the wisdom and knowledge required to make decisions on governance.
Plato’s rationale for this radical approach rests upon his belief that human harmony can only be achieved in a society in which governance is based upon intelligence, and where individuals fulfil their roles. It is truly an interesting proposition to consider. Is war a product of human stupidity? While many might agree on a moral level, the issue is more complex than it seems. Karl Marx, for example, considers class struggles to be the source of all conflict and war in human society. Based upon Marx’s theory, Plato’s Republic society would only cause conflict since it relies upon a rigid class system which subjugates the proletariat. The issue is still unclear, but both perspectives reveal competing views on harmonious societal function which may collaborate whilst they appear to compete.
Reflecting upon these diverse perspectives in the context of modern conflicts can offer nuanced and valuable ideas on how to eradicate their underlying cause. Let’s consider the Myanmar conflict, for example. The conflict was initiated in the political insurgencies in 1948 following the country’s independence and has only escalated since the 2021 coup in which the Junta (the military) overthrew the democratic government. Since gaining power, an authoritarian regime of military control has dominated the region, plunging it into civil war with the Junta acting upon the values of traditional Burmese and Buddhist Nationalism, Militarism and Anti-Democracy. Approximately 50,000 people are estimated to have been killed, with 3 million displaced. The primary targets of the violence are the Rohingya, a Muslim ethnic minority in Rakhine State.
The civil conflict evokes chilling parallels to the genocide of the Jewish people in Nazi Germany, as the Arakanese Buddhist majority has been mobilised against the Rohingya by the militant junta regime. The persecution, killing and diaspora of the Rohingya people was declared to be a “textbook example of ethnic cleansing” by the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights in 2018. Yet, the conflict has been relatively buried from international attention, with little intervention and sparse public knowledge. You can read more about the current crisis here.
Considering the nature of the Myanmar crisis, is it a product of human nature or society? One may argue that Hobbes and Freud’s theories explain the war’s motivation. With the Junta’s desire for power, and the proponents of the militant regime united through aggression against historic ethnic tensions, it seems clear that we can blame the conflict on the human proclivity for war. However, it is not a clear-cut rationale. We must wonder if the Arakanese people and Junta forces would feel aggression towards the Rohingya without the national narratives and social structures which have conditioned them. Perhaps then Harari and Plato offer a more logical explanation since the conflict is a product of differences in culture and poor political governance. Yet, it is still possible that humans innately seek conflict against the “other” as Hobbes and Freud suggest.
It is frustrating to consider. You may feel one view is stronger than the other, you may believe that both perspectives should be considered together. That in essence, is a conflict. What do I think? Whilst I am as confused as you are, I think that regardless of both views, human nature and society will always fundamentally exist, and they are indivisible. The modern state of affairs will never depart from human organisation, and we cannot deprive humans of their humanity. In my mind, society and the human condition react in a catastrophic but paradoxically harmonious way. Yes, war persists, but so do innovation and human empathy. We see, hear and learn about the atrocities of war and feel compelled to fight against it.
That in itself is conflict. I do not think conflict is inherently evil I think that if it is harnessed and controlled, it can lead to good. A debate is conflict, an essay is conflict, philosophy is conflict, and so is war. The issue is whether we can contain it to its early stages before it reaches the climax of violence. Thus, the first step in reaching peace is understanding why conflict escalates and how we can minimise it in our everyday lives. On the 105th anniversary of observing the minutes’ silence, I hope that we can contemplate war beyond bloodshed. The greatest difference we can make is to take time to think and try to understand war.
Consider this: If every person contemplated the philosophical and theoretical underpinnings of war, would it exist?
If the drunken man in the bar thinks before hitting, does he hit?
Are we capable of peace if we simply think?