{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_35875/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_35875","id":"gutenberg_35875","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35875","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Modern (1750+)","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Psychiatry/Psychology","Civilization -- Philosophy","Death -- Psychological aspects","Psychoanalysis","Psychoanalysis and culture","War -- Psychological aspects"],"text":"</pre>\n\n\n\nProduced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed\nProofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was\nproduced from scanned images of public domain material\nfrom the Google Print project.)\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nREFLECTIONS\nON WAR AND DEATH\n\n\n\n\nREFLECTIONS\nON WAR AND DEATH\n\n_By_\nPROFESSOR DR. SIGMUND FREUD, LL.D.\n\n_Authorized English Translation By_\n\nDR. A. A. BRILL and\nALFRED B. KUTTNER\n\n[Illustration: colophon]\n\nMOFFAT, YARD AND COMPANY\nNEW YORK\n1918\n\nCopyright, 1918, by\nMOFFAT, YARD, AND COMPANY\n\n\nThis book is offered to the American public at the present time in the\nhope that it may contribute something to the cause of international\nunderstanding and good will which has become the hope of the world.\n\nTHE TRANSLATORS.\n\n\n\n\nREFLECTIONS\nON WAR AND DEATH\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nTHE DISAPPOINTMENTS OF WAR\n\n\nCaught in the whirlwind of these war times, without any real information\nor any perspective upon the great changes that have already occurred or\nare about to be enacted, lacking all premonition of the future, it is\nsmall wonder that we ourselves become confused as to the meaning of\nimpressions which crowd in upon us or of the value of the judgments we\nare forming. It would seem as though no event had ever destroyed so much\nof the precious heritage of mankind, confused so many of the clearest\nintellects or so thoroughly debased what is highest.\n\nEven science has lost her dispassionate impartiality. Her deeply\nembittered votaries are intent upon seizing her weapons to do their\nshare in the battle against the enemy. The anthropologist has to declare\nhis opponent inferior and degenerate, the psychiatrist must diagnose him\nas mentally deranged. Yet it is probable that we are affected out of all\nproportion by the evils of these times and have no right to compare them\nwith the evils of other times through which we have not lived.\n\nThe individual who is not himself a combatant and therefore has not\nbecome a cog in the gigantic war machinery, feels confused in his\nbearings and hampered in his activities. I think any little suggestion\nthat will make it easier for him to see his way more clearly will be\nwelcome. Among the factors which cause the stay-at-home so much\nspiritual misery and are so hard to endure there are two in particular\nwhich I should like to emphasize and discuss. I mean the disappointment\nthat this war has called forth and the altered attitude towards death to\nwhich it, in common with other wars, forces us.\n\nWhen I speak of disappointment everybody knows at once what I mean. One\nneed not be a sentimentalist, one may realize the biological and\nphysiological necessity of suffering in the economy of human life, and\nyet one may condemn the methods and the aims of war and long for its\ntermination. To be sure, we used to say that wars cannot cease as long\nas nations live under such varied conditions, as long as they place\nsuch different values upon the individual life, and as long as the\nanimosities which divide them represent such powerful psychic forces. We\nwere therefore quite ready to believe that for some time to come there\nwould be wars between primitive and civilized nations and between those\ndivided by color, as well as with and among the partly enlightened and\nmore or less civilized peoples of Europe. But we dared to hope\ndifferently. We expected that the great ruling nations of the white\nrace, the leaders of mankind, who had cultivated world wide interests,\nand to whom we owe the technical progress in the control of nature as\nwell as the creation of artistic and scientific cultural standards--we\nexpected that these nations would find some other way of settling their\ndifferences and conflicting interests.\n\nEach of these nations had set a high moral standard to which the\nindividual had to conform if he wished to be a member of the civilized\ncommunity.\n\nThese frequently over strict precepts demanded a great deal of him, a\ngreat self-restraint and a marked renunciation of his impulses. Above\nall he was forbidden to resort to lying and cheating, which are so\nextraordinarily useful in competition with others. The civilized state\nconsidered these moral standards the foundation of its existence, it\ndrastically interfered if anyone dared to question them and often\ndeclared it improper even to submit them to the test of intellectual\ncriticism. It was therefore assumed that the state itself would respect\nthem and would do nothing that might contradict the foundations of its\nown existence. To be sure, one was aware that scattered among these\ncivilized nations there were certain remnants of races that were quite\nuniversally disliked, and were therefore reluctantly and only to a\ncertain extent permitted to participate in the common work of\ncivilization where they had proved themselves sufficiently fit for the\ntask. But the great nations themselves, one should have thought, had\nacquired sufficient understanding for the qualities they had in common\nand enough tolerance for their differences so that, unlike in the days\nof classical antiquity, the words \"foreign\" and \"hostile\" should no\nlonger be synonyms.\n\nTrusting to this unity of civilized races countless people left hearth\nand home to live in strange lands and trusted their fortunes to the\nfriendly relations existing between the various countries. And even he\nwho was not tied down to the same spot by the exigencies of life could\ncombine all the advantages and charms of civilized countries into a\nnewer and greater fatherland which he could enjoy without hindrance or\nsuspicion. He thus took delight in the blue and the grey ocean, the\nbeauty of snow clad mountains and of the green lowlands, the magic of\nthe north woods and the grandeur of southern vegetation, the atmosphere\nof landscapes upon which great historical memories rest, and the peace\nof untouched nature. The new fatherland was to him also a museum, filled\nwith the treasure that all the artists of the world for many centuries\nhad created and left behind. While he wandered from one hall to another\nin this museum he could give his impartial appreciation to the varied\ntypes of perfection that had been developed among his distant\ncompatriots by the mixture of blood, by history, and by the\npeculiarities of physical environment. Here cool, inflexible energy was\ndeveloped to the highest degree, there the graceful art of beautifying\nlife, elsewhere the sense of law and order, or other qualities that have\nmade man master of the earth.\n\nWe must not forget that every civilized citizen of the world had created\nhis own special \"Parnassus\" and his own \"School of Athens.\" Among the\ngreat philosophers, poets, and artists of all nations he had selected\nthose to whom he considered himself indebted for the best enjoyment and\nunderstanding of life, and he associated them in his homage both with\nthe immortal ancients and with the familiar masters of his own tongue.\nNot one of these great figures seemed alien to him just because he spoke\nin a different language; be it the incomparable explorer of human\npassions or the intoxicated worshiper of beauty, the mighty and\nthreatening seer or the sensitive scoffer, and yet he never reproached\nhimself with having become an apostate to his own nation and his beloved\nmother tongue.\n\nThe enjoyment of this common civilization was occasionally disturbed by\nvoices which warned that in consequence of traditional differences wars\nwere unavoidable even between those who shared this civilization. One\ndid not want to believe this, but what did one imagine such a war to be\nlike if it should ever come about? No doubt it was to be an opportunity\nto show the progress in man's community feeling since the days when the\nGreek amphictyonies had forbidden the destruction of a city belonging to\nthe league, the felling of her oil trees and the cutting off of her\nwater supply. It would be a chivalrous bout of arms for the sole purpose\nof establishing the superiority of one side or the other with the\ngreatest possible avoidance of severe suffering which could contribute\nnothing to the decision, with complete protection for the wounded, who\nmust withdraw from the battle, and for the physicians and nurses who\ndevote themselves to their care. With every consideration, of course,\nfor noncombatants, for the women who are removed from the activities of\nwar, and for the children who, when grown up, are to become friends and\nco-workers on both sides. And with the maintenance, finally, of all the\ninternational projects and institutions in which the civilized community\nof peace times had expressed its corporate life.\n\nSuch a war would still be horrible enough and full of burdens, but it\nwould not have interrupted the development of ethical relations between\nthe large human units, between nations and states. But the war in which\nwe did not want to believe broke out and brought--disappointment. It is\nnot only bloodier and more destructive than any foregoing war, as a\nresult of the tremendous development of weapons of attack and defense,\nbut it is at least as cruel, bitter, and merciless as any earlier war.\nIt places itself above all the restrictions pledged in times of peace,\nthe so-called rights of nations, it does not acknowledge the\nprerogatives of the wounded and of physicians, the distinction between\npeaceful and fighting members of the population, or the claims of\nprivate property. It hurls down in blind rage whatever bars its way, as\nthough there were to be no future and no peace after it is over. It\ntears asunder all community bonds among the struggling peoples and\nthreatens to leave a bitterness which will make impossible any\nre-establishment of these ties for a long time to come.\n\nIt has also brought to light the barely conceivable phenomenon of\ncivilized nations knowing and understanding each other so little that\none can turn from the other with hate and loathing. Indeed one of these\ngreat civilized nations has become so universally disliked that it is\neven attempted to cast it out from the civilized community as though it\nwere barbaric, although this very nation has long proved its\neligibility through contribution after contribution of brilliant\nachievements. We live in the hope that impartial history will furnish\nthe proof that this very nation, in whose language I am writing and for\nwhose victory our dear ones are fighting, has sinned least against the\nlaws of human civilization. But who is privileged to step forward at\nsuch a time as judge in his own defense?\n\nRaces are roughly represented by the states they form and these states\nby the governments which guide them. The individual citizen can prove\nwith dismay in this war what occasionally thrust itself upon him already\nin times of peace, namely, that the state forbids him to do wrong not\nbecause it wishes to do away with wrongdoing but because it wishes to\nmonopolize it, like salt and tobacco. A state at war makes free use of\nevery injustice, every act of violence, that would dishonor the\nindividual. It employs not only permissible cunning but conscious lies\nand intentional deception against the enemy, and this to a degree which\napparently outdoes what was customary in previous wars. The state\ndemands the utmost obedience and sacrifice of its citizens, but at the\nsame time it treats them as children through an excess of secrecy and a\ncensorship of news and expression of opinion which render the minds of\nthose who are thus intellectually repressed defenseless against every\nunfavorable situation and every wild rumor. It absolves itself from\nguarantees and treaties by which it was bound to other states, makes\nunabashed confession of its greed and aspiration to power, which the\nindividual is then supposed to sanction out of patriotism.\n\nLet the reader not object that the state cannot abstain from the use of\ninjustice because it would thereby put itself at a disadvantage. For the\nindividual, too, obedience to moral standards and abstinence from brutal\nacts of violence are as a rule very disadvantageous, and the state but\nrarely proves itself capable of indemnifying the individual for the\nsacrifice it demands of him. Nor is it to be wondered at that the\nloosening of moral ties between the large human units has had a\npronounced effect upon the morality of the individual, for our\nconscience is not the inexorable judge that teachers of ethics say it\nis; it has its origin in nothing but \"social fear.\" Wherever the\ncommunity suspends its reproach the suppression of evil desire also\nceases, and men commit acts of cruelty, treachery, deception, and\nbrutality, the very possibility of which would have been considered\nincompatible with their level of culture.\n\nThus the civilized world-citizen of whom I spoke before may find himself\nhelpless in a world that has grown strange to him when he sees his great\nfatherland disintegrated, the possessions common to mankind destroyed,\nand his fellow citizens divided and debased.\n\nNevertheless several things might be said in criticism of his\ndisappointment. Strictly speaking it is not justified, for it consists\nin the destruction of an illusion. Illusions commend themselves to us\nbecause they save us pain and allow us to enjoy pleasure instead. We\nmust therefore accept it without complaint when they sometimes collide\nwith a bit of reality against which they are dashed to pieces.\n\nTwo things have roused our disappointment in this war: the feeble\nmorality of states in their external relations which have inwardly acted\nas guardians of moral standards, and the brutal behavior of individuals\nof the highest culture of whom one would not have believed any such\nthing possible.\n\nLet us begin with the second point and try to sum up the view which we\nwish to criticise in a single compact statement. Through what process\ndoes the individual reach a higher stage of morality? The first answer\nwill probably be: He is really good and noble from birth, in the first\nplace. It is hardly necessary to give this any further consideration.\nThe second answer will follow the suggestion that a process of\ndevelopment is involved here and will probably assume that this\ndevelopment consists in eradicating the evil inclinations of man and\nsubstituting good inclinations under the influence of education and\ncultural environment. In that case we may indeed wonder that evil should\nappear again so actively in persons who have been educated in this way.\n\nBut this answer also contains the theory which we wish to contradict. In\nreality there is no such thing as \"eradicating\" evil. Psychological, or\nstrictly speaking, psychoanalytic investigation proves, on the contrary,\nthat the deepest character of man consists of impulses of an elemental\nkind which are similar in all human beings, the aim of which is the\ngratification of certain primitive needs. These impulses are in\nthemselves neither good or evil. We classify them and their\nmanifestations according to their relation to the needs and demands of\nthe human community. It is conceded that all the impulses which society\nrejects as evil, such as selfishness and cruelty, are of this primitive\nnature.\n\nThese primitive impulses go through a long process of development before\nthey can become active in the adult. They become inhibited and diverted\nto other aims and fields, they unite with each other, change their\nobjects and in part turn against one's own person. The formation of\nreactions against certain impulses give the deceptive appearance of a\nchange of content, as if egotism had become altruism and cruelty had\nchanged into sympathy. The formation of these reactions is favored by\nthe fact that many impulses appear almost from the beginning in\ncontrasting pairs; this is a remarkable state of affairs called the\nambivalence of feeling and is quite unknown to the layman. This feeling\nis best observed and grasped through the fact that intense love and\nintense hate occur so frequently in the same person. Psychoanalysis goes\nfurther and states that the two contrasting feelings not infrequently\ntake the same person as their object.\n\nWhat we call the character of a person does not really emerge until the\nfate of all these impulses has been settled, and character, as we all\nknow, is very inadequately defined in terms of either \"good\" or \"evil.\"\nMan is seldom entirely good or evil, he is \"good\" on the whole in one\nrespect and \"evil\" in another, or \"good\" under certain conditions, and\ndecidedly \"evil\" under others. It is interesting to learn that the\nearlier infantile existence of intense \"bad\" impulses is often the\nnecessary condition of being \"good\" in later life. The most pronounced\nchildish egotists may become the most helpful and self-sacrificing\ncitizens; the majority of idealists, humanitarians, and protectors of\nanimals have developed from little sadists and animal tormentors.\n\nThe transformation of \"evil\" impulses is the result of two factors\noperating in the same sense, one inwardly and the other outwardly. The\ninner factor consists in influencing the evil or selfish impulses\nthrough erotic elements, the love needs of man interpreted in the widest\nsense. The addition of erotic components transforms selfish impulses\ninto social impulses. We learn to value being loved as an advantage for\nthe sake of which we can renounce other advantages. The outer factor is\nthe force of education which represents the demands of the civilized\nenvironment and which is then continued through the direct influence of\nthe cultural _milieu_.\n\nCivilization is based upon the renunciation of impulse gratification and\nin turn demands the same renunciation of impulses from every newcomer.\nDuring the individual's life a constant change takes place from outer to\ninner compulsion. The influences of civilization work through the erotic\ncomponents to bring about the transformation of more and more of the\nselfish tendencies into altruistic and social tendencies. We may indeed\nassume that the inner compulsion which makes itself felt in the\ndevelopment of man was originally, that is, in the history of mankind,\na purely external compulsion. Today people bring along a certain\ntendency (disposition) to transform the egotistic into social impulses\nas a part of their hereditary organization, which then responds to\nfurther slight incentives to complete the transformation. A part of this\ntransformation of impulse must also be made during life. In this way the\nindividual man is not only under the influence of his own contemporary\ncultural _milieu_ but is also subject to the influences of his ancestral\ncivilization.\n\nIf we call a person's individual capacity for transforming his\negotistical impulses under the influence of love his cultural\nadaptability, we can say that this consists of two parts, one congenital\nand the other acquired, and we may add that the relation of these two to\neach other and to the untransformed part of the emotional life is a\nvery variable one.\n\nIn general we are inclined to rate the congenital part too highly, and\nare also in danger of over-valuing the whole cultural adaptability in\nits relation to that part of the impulse life which has remained\nprimitive, that is, we are misled into judging people to be \"better\"\nthan they really are. For there is another factor which clouds our\njudgment and falsifies the result in favor of what we are judging.\n\nWe are of course in no position to observe the impulses of another\nperson. We deduce them from his actions and his conduct, which we trace\nback to motives springing from his emotional life. In a number of cases\nsuch a conclusion is necessarily incorrect. The same actions which are\n\"good\" in the civilized sense may sometimes originate in \"noble\"\nmotives and sometimes not. Students of the theory of ethics call only\nthose acts \"good\" which are the expression of good impulses and refuse\nto acknowledge others as such. But society is on the whole guided by\npractical aims and does not bother about this distinction; it is\nsatisfied if a man adapts his conduct and his actions to the precepts of\ncivilization and asks little about his motives.\n\nWe have heard that the outer compulsion which education and environment\nexercise upon a man brings about a further transformation of his impulse\nlife for the good, the change from egotism to altruism. But this is not\nthe necessary or regular effect of the outer compulsion. Education and\nenvironment have not only love premiums to offer but work with profit\npremiums of another sort, namely rewards and punishments. They can\ntherefore bring it about that a person subject to their influence\ndecides in favor of good conduct in the civilized sense without any\nennobling of impulse or change from egotistic into altruistic\ninclinations. On the whole the consequence remains the same; only\nspecial circumstances will reveal whether the one person is always good\nbecause his impulses compel him to be so while another person is good\nonly in so far as this civilized behavior is of advantage to his selfish\npurposes. But our superficial knowledge of the individual gives us no\nmeans of distinguishing the two cases, and we shall certainly be misled\nby our optimism into greatly over-estimating the number of people who\nhave been transformed by civilization.\n\nCivilized society, which demands good conduct and does not bother about\nthe impulse on which it is based, has thus won over a great many people\nto civilized obedience who do not thereby follow their own natures.\nEncouraged by this success, society has permitted itself to be misled\ninto putting the ethical demands as high as possible, thereby forcing\nits members to move still further from their emotional dispositions. A\ncontinual emotional suppression is imposed upon them, the strain of\nwhich is indicated by the appearance of the most remarkable reactions\nand compensations.\n\nIn the field of sexuality, where such suppression is most difficult to\ncarry out, it results in reactions known as neurotic ailments. In other\nfields the pressure of civilization shows no pathological results but\nmanifests itself in distorted characters and in the constant readiness\nof the inhibited impulses to enforce their gratification at any fitting\nopportunity.\n\nAnyone thus forced to react continually to precepts that are not the\nexpressions of his impulses lives, psychologically speaking, above his\nmeans, and may be objectively described as a hypocrite, whether he is\nclearly conscious of this difference or not. It is undeniable that our\ncontemporary civilization favors this sort of hypocrisy to an\nextraordinary extent. One might even venture to assert that it is built\nupon such a hypocrisy and would have to undergo extensive changes if man\nwere to undertake to live according to the psychological truth. There\nare therefore more civilized hypocrites than truly cultured persons, and\none can even discuss the question whether a certain amount of civilized\nhypocrisy is not indispensable to maintain civilization because the\nalready organized cultural adaptability of the man of today would\nperhaps not suffice for the task of living according to the truth. On\nthe other hand the maintenance of civilization even on such questionable\ngrounds offers the prospect that with every new generation a more\nextensive transformation of impulses will pave the way for a better\ncivilization.\n\nThese discussions have already afforded us the consolation that our\nmortification and painful disappointment on account of the uncivilized\nbehavior of our fellow world citizens in this war were not justified.\nThey rested upon an illusion to which we had succumbed. In reality they\nhave not sunk as deeply as we feared because they never really rose as\nhigh as we had believed. The fact that states and races abolished their\nmutual ethical restrictions not unnaturally incited them to withdraw for\na time from the existing pressure of civilization and to sanction a\npassing gratification of their suppressed impulses. In doing so their\nrelative morality within their own national life probably suffered no\nrupture.\n\nBut we can still further deepen our understanding of the change which\nthis war has brought about in our former compatriots and at the same\ntime take warning not to be unjust to them. For psychic evolution shows\na peculiarity which is not found in any other process of development.\nWhen a town becomes a city or a child grows into a man, town and child\ndisappear in the city and in the man. Only memory can sketch in the old\nfeatures in the new picture; in reality the old materials and forms have\nbeen replaced by new ones. It is different in the case of psychic\nevolution. One can describe this unique state of affairs only by saying\nthat every previous stage of development is preserved next to the\nfollowing one from which it has evolved; the succession stipulates a\nco-existence although the material in which the whole series of changes\nhas taken place remains the same.\n\nThe earlier psychic state may not have manifested itself for years but\nnevertheless continues to exist to the extent that it may some day again\nbecome the form in which psychic forces express themselves, in fact the\nonly form, as though all subsequent developments had been annulled and\nmade regressive. This extraordinary plasticity of psychic development\nis not without limits as to its direction; one can describe it as a\nspecial capacity for retrograde action or regression, for it sometimes\nhappens that a later and higher stage of development that has been\nabandoned cannot be attained again. But the primitive conditions can\nalways be reconstructed; the primitive psyche is in the strictest sense\nindestructible.\n\nThe so-called mental diseases must make the impression on the layman of\nmental and psychic life fallen into decay. In reality the destruction\nconcerns only later acquisitions and developments. The nature of mental\ndiseases consists in the return to former states of the affective life\nand function. An excellent example of the plasticity of the psychic life\nis the state of sleep, which we all court every night.\n\nSince we know how to interpret even the maddest and most confused\ndreams, we know that every time we go to sleep we throw aside our hard\nwon morality like a garment in order to put it on again in the morning.\nThis laying bare is, of course, harmless, because we are paralyzed and\ncondemned to inactivity by the sleeping state.\n\nOnly the dream can inform us of the regression of our emotional life to\nan earlier stage of development. Thus, for instance, it is worthy of\nnote that all our dreams are governed by purely egotistic motives. One\nof my English friends once presented this theory to a scientific meeting\nin America, whereupon a lady present made the remark that this might\nperhaps be true of Austrians, but she ventured to assert for herself and\nher friends that even in dreams they always felt altruistically. My\nfriend, although himself a member of the English race, was obliged to\ncontradict the lady energetically on the basis of his experience in\ndream analysis. The noble Americans are just as egotistic in their\ndreams as the Austrians.\n\nThe transformation of impulses upon which our cultural adaptability\nrests can therefore also be permanently or temporarily made regressive.\nWithout doubt the influences of war belong to those forces which can\ncreate such regressions; we therefore need not deny cultural\nadaptibility to all those who at present are acting in such an\nuncivilized manner, and may expect that the refinement of their\nimpulses will continue in more peaceful times.\n\nBut there is perhaps another symptom of our fellow citizens of the world\nwhich has caused us no less surprise and fear than this descent from\nformer ethical heights which has been so painful to us. I mean the lack\nof insight that our greatest intellectual leaders have shown, their\nobduracy, their inaccessibility to the most impressive arguments, their\nuncritical credulity concerning the most contestable assertions. This\ncertainly presents a sad picture, and I wish expressly to emphasize that\nI am by no means a blinded partisan who finds all the intellectual\nmistakes on one side. But this phenomenon is more easily explained and\nfar less serious than the one which we have just considered. Students of\nhuman nature and philosophers have long ago taught us that we do wrong\nto value our intelligence as an independent force and to overlook its\ndependence upon our emotional life. According to their view our\nintellect can work reliably only when it is removed from the influence\nof powerful incitements; otherwise it acts simply as an instrument at\nthe beck and call of our will and delivers the results which the will\ndemands. Logical argumentation is therefore powerless against affective\ninterests; that is why arguing with reasons which, according to\nFalstaff, are as common as blackberries, are so fruitless where our\ninterests are concerned. Whenever possible psychoanalytic experience has\ndriven home this assertion. It is in a position to prove every day that\nthe cleverest people suddenly behave as unintelligently as defectives\nas soon as their understanding encounters emotional resistance, but that\nthey regain their intelligence completely as soon as this resistance has\nbeen overcome. This blindness to logic which this war has so frequently\nconjured up in just our best fellow citizens, is therefore a secondary\nphenomenon, the result of emotional excitement and destined, we hope, to\ndisappear simultaneously with it.\n\nIf we have thus come to a fresh understanding of our estranged fellow\ncitizens we can more easily bear the disappointment which nations have\ncaused us, for of them we must only make demands of a far more modest\nnature. They are perhaps repeating the development of the individual and\nat the present day still exhibit very primitive stages of development\nwith a correspondingly slow progress towards the formation of higher\nunities. It is in keeping with this that the educational factor of an\nouter compulsion to morality, which we found so active in the\nindividual, is barely perceptible in them. We had indeed hoped that the\nwonderful community of interests established by intercourse and the\nexchange of products would result in the beginning of such a compulsion,\nbut it seems that nations obey their passions of the moment far more\nthan their interests. At most they make use of their interests to\njustify the gratification of their passions.\n\nIt is indeed a mystery why the individual members of nations should\ndisdain, hate, and abhor each other at all, even in times of peace. I do\nnot know why it is. It seems as if all the moral achievements of the\nindividual were obliterated in the case of a large number of people,\nnot to mention millions, until only the most primitive, oldest, and most\nbrutal psychic inhibitions remained.\n\nPerhaps only later developments will succeed in changing these\nlamentable conditions. But a little more truthfulness and\nstraightforward dealing on all sides, both in the relation of people\ntowards each other and between themselves and those who govern them,\nmight smooth the way for such a change.\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nOUR ATTITUDE TOWARDS DEATH\n\n\nIt remains for us to consider the second factor of which I have already\nspoken which accounts for our feeling of strangeness in a world which\nused to seem so beautiful and familiar to us. I refer to the disturbance\nin our former attitude towards death.\n\nOur attitude had not been a sincere one. To listen to us we were, of\ncourse, prepared to maintain that death is the necessary termination of\nlife, that everyone of us owes nature his death and must be prepared to\npay his debt, in short, that death was natural, undeniable, and\ninevitable. In practice we were accustomed to act as if matters were\nquite different. We have shown an unmistakable tendency to put death\naside, to eliminate it from life. We attempted to hush it up, in fact,\nwe have the proverb: to think of something as of death. Of course we\nmeant our own death. We cannot, indeed, imagine our own death; whenever\nwe try to do so we find that we survive ourselves as spectators. The\nschool of psychoanalysis could thus assert that at bottom no one\nbelieves in his own death, which amounts to saying: in the unconscious\nevery one of us is convinced of his immortality.\n\nAs far as the death of another person is concerned every man of culture\nwill studiously avoid mentioning this possibility in the presence of the\nperson in question. Only children ignore this restraint; they boldly\nthreaten each other with the possibility of death, and are quite capable\nof giving expression to the thought of death in relation to the persons\nthey love, as, for instance: Dear Mama, when unfortunately, you are\ndead, I shall do so and so. The civilized adult also likes to avoid\nentertaining the thought of another's death lest he seem harsh or\nunkind, unless his profession as a physician or a lawyer brings up the\nquestion. Least of all would he permit himself to think of somebody's\ndeath if this event is connected with a gain of freedom, wealth, or\nposition. Death is, of course, not deferred through our sensitiveness on\nthe subject, and when it occurs we are always deeply affected, as if our\nexpectations had been shattered. We regularly lay stress upon the\nunexpected causes of death, we speak of the accident, the infection, or\nadvanced age, and thus betray our endeavor to debase death from a\nnecessity to an accident. A large number of deaths seems unspeakably\ndreadful to us. We assume a special attitude towards the dead, something\nalmost like admiration for one who has accomplished a very difficult\nfeat. We suspend criticism of him, overlooking whatever wrongs he may\nhave done, and issue the command, _de mortuis nil nisi bene_: we act as\nif we were justified in singing his praises at the funeral oration, and\ninscribe only what is to his advantage on the tombstone. This\nconsideration for the dead, which he really no longer needs, is more\nimportant to us than the truth and to most of us, certainly, it is more\nimportant than consideration for the living.\n\nThis conventional attitude of civilized people towards death is made\nstill more striking by our complete collapse at the death of a person\nclosely related to us, such as a parent, a wife or husband, a brother or\nsister, a child or a dear friend. We bury our hopes, our wishes, and our\ndesires with the dead, we are inconsolable and refuse to replace our\nloss. We act in this case as if we belonged to the tribe of the Asra who\nalso die when those whom they love perish.[1]\n\nBut this attitude of ours towards death exerts a powerful influence upon\nour lives. Life becomes impoverished and loses its interest when life\nitself, the highest stake in the game of living, must not be risked. It\nbecomes as hollow and empty as an American flirtation in which it is\nunderstood from the beginning that nothing is to happen, in contrast to\na continental love affair in which both partners must always bear in\nmind the serious consequences. Our emotional ties, the unbearable\nintensity of our grief, make us disinclined to court dangers for\nourselves and those belonging to us. We do not dare to contemplate a\nnumber of undertakings that are dangerous but really indispensable, such\nas aeroplane flights, expeditions to distant countries, and experiments\nwith explosive substances. We are paralyzed by the thought of who is to\nreplace the son to his mother, the husband to his wife, or the father to\nhis children, should an accident occur. A number of other renunciations\nand exclusions result from this tendency to rule out death from the\ncalculations of life. And yet the motto of the Hanseatic League said:\n_Navigare necesse est, vivere non necesse_: It is necessary to sail the\nseas, but not to live.\n\nIt is therefore inevitable that we should seek compensation for the loss\nof life in the world of fiction, in literature, and in the theater.\nThere we still find people who know how to die, who are even quite\ncapable of killing others. There alone the condition for reconciling\nourselves to death is fulfilled, namely, if beneath all the vicissitudes\nof life a permanent life still remains to us. It is really too sad that\nit may happen in life as in chess, where a false move can force us to\nlose the game, but with this difference, that we cannot begin a return\nmatch. In the realm of fiction we find the many lives in one for which\nwe crave. We die in identification with a certain hero and yet we\noutlive him and, quite unharmed, are prepared to die again with the next\nhero.\n\nIt is obvious that the war must brush aside this conventional treatment\nof death. Death is no longer to be denied; we are compelled to believe\nin it. People really die and no longer one by one, but in large numbers,\noften ten thousand in one day. It is no longer an accident. Of course,\nit still seems accidental whether a particular bullet strikes this man\nor that but the survivor may easily be struck down by a second bullet,\nand the accumulation of deaths ends the impression of accident. Life has\nindeed become interesting again; it has once more received its full\nsignificance.\n\nLet us make a division here and separate those who risk their lives in\nbattle from those who remain at home, where they can only expect to\nlose one of their loved ones through injury, illness, or infection. It\nwould certainly be very interesting to study the changes in the\npsychology of the combatants but I know too little about this. We must\nstick to the second group, to which we ourselves belong. I have already\nstated that I think the confusion and paralysis of our activities from\nwhich we are suffering is essentially determined by the fact that we\ncannot retain our previous attitude towards death. Perhaps it will help\nus to direct our psychological investigation to two other attitudes\ntowards death, one of which we may ascribe to primitive man, while the\nother is still preserved, though invisible to our consciousness, in the\ndeeper layers of our psychic life.\n\nThe attitude of prehistoric man towards death is, of course, known to us\nonly through deductions and reconstructions, but I am of the opinion\nthat these have given us fairly trustworthy information.\n\nPrimitive man maintained a very curious attitude towards death. It is\nnot at all consistent but rather contradictory. On the one hand he took\ndeath very seriously, recognized it as the termination of life, and made\nuse of it in this sense; but, on the other hand, he also denied death\nand reduced it to nothingness. This contradiction was made possible by\nthe fact that he maintained a radically different position in regard to\nthe death of others, a stranger or an enemy, than in regard to his own.\nThe death of another person fitted in with his idea, it signified the\nannihilation of the hated one, and primitive man had no scruples\nagainst bringing it about. He must have been a very passionate being,\nmore cruel and vicious than other animals. He liked to kill and did it\nas a matter of course. Nor need we attribute to him the instinct which\nrestrains other animals from killing and devouring their own species.\n\nAs a matter of fact the primitive history of mankind is filled with\nmurder. The history of the world which is still taught to our children\nis essentially a series of race murders. The dimly felt sense of guilt\nunder which man has lived since archaic times, and which in many\nreligions has been condensed into the assumption of a primal guilt, a\nhereditary sin, is probably the expression of a blood guilt, the burden\nof which primitive man assumed. In my book entitled \"Totem and Taboo,\"\n1913, I have followed the hints of W. Robertson Smith, Atkinson, and\nCharles Darwin in the attempt to fathom the nature of this ancient\nguilt, and am of the opinion that the Christian doctrine of today still\nmakes it possible for us to work back to its origin.[2]\n\nIf the Son of God had to sacrifice his life to absolve mankind from\noriginal sin, then, according to the law of retaliation, the return of\nlike for like, this sin must have been an act of killing, a murder.\nNothing else could call for the sacrifice of a life in expiation. And if\noriginal sin was a sin against the God Father, the oldest sin of mankind\nmust have been a patricide--the killing of the primal father of the\nprimitive human horde, whose memory picture later was transfigured into\na deity.[3]\n\nPrimitive man was as incapable of imagining and realizing his own death\nas any one of us are today. But a case arose in which the two opposite\nattitudes towards death clashed and came into conflict with each other,\nwith results that are both significant and far reaching. Such a case was\ngiven when primitive man saw one of his own relatives die, his wife,\nchild, or friend, whom he certainly loved as we do ours; for love cannot\nbe much younger than the lust for murder. In his pain he must have\ndiscovered that he, too, could die, an admission against which his whole\nbeing must have revolted, for everyone of these loved ones was a part of\nhis own beloved self. On the other hand again, every such death was\nsatisfactory to him, for there was also something foreign in each one of\nthese persons. The law of emotional ambivalence, which today still\ngoverns our emotional relations to those whom we love, certainly\nobtained far more widely in primitive times. The beloved dead had\nnevertheless roused some hostile feelings in primitive man just because\nthey had been both friends and enemies.\n\nPhilosophers have maintained that the intellectual puzzle which the\npicture of death presented to primitive man forced him to reflect and\nbecame the starting point of every speculation. I believe the\nphilosophers here think too philosophically, they give too little\nconsideration to the primary effective motive. I should therefore like\nto correct and limit the above assertion; primitive man probably\ntriumphed at the side of the corpse of the slain enemy, without finding\nany occasion to puzzle his head about the riddle of life and death. It\nwas not the intellectual puzzle or any particular death which roused the\nspirit of inquiry in man, but the conflict of emotions at the death of\nbeloved and withal foreign and hated persons.\n\nFrom this emotional conflict psychology arose. Man could no longer keep\ndeath away from him, for he had tasted of it in his grief for the\ndeceased, but he did not want to acknowledge it, since he could not\nimagine himself dead. He therefore formed a compromise and concealed his\nown death but denied it the significance of destroying life, a\ndistinction for which the death of his enemies had given him no motive.\nHe invented spirits during his contemplation of the corpse of the\nperson he loved, and his consciousness of guilt over the gratification\nwhich mingled with his grief brought it about that these first created\nspirits were transformed into evil demons who were to be feared. The\nchanges wrought by death suggested to him to divide the individual into\nbody and soul, at first several souls, and in this way his train of\nthought paralleled the disintegration process inaugurated by death. The\ncontinued remembrance of the dead became the basis of the assumption of\nother forms of existence and gave him the idea of a future life after\napparent death.\n\nThese later forms of existence were at first only vaguely associated\nappendages to those whom death had cut off, and enjoyed only slight\nesteem until much later times; they still betrayed a very meagre\nknowledge. The reply which the soul of Achilles made to Odysseus comes\nto our mind:\n\n    Erst in the life on the earth, no less than a god we revered thee,\n    We the Achaeans; and now in the realm of the dead as a monarch\n    Here thou dost rule; then why should death thus grieve thee, Achilles?\n    Thus did I speak: forthwith then answering thus he addressed me.\n    Speak not smoothly of death, I beseech, O famous Odysseus,\n    Better by far to remain on the earth as the thrall of another,\n    E'en of a portionless man that hath means right scanty of living,\n    Rather than reign sole king in the realm of the bodiless phantoms.\n\n                     Odysseus XI, verse 484-491\n                       Translated by H. B. Coterill.\n\nHeine has rendered this in a forcible and bitter parody:\n\n    The smallest living philistine,\n    At Stuckert on the Neckar\n    Is much happier than I am,\n    Son of Pelleus, the dead hero,\n    Shadowy ruler of the Underworld.\n\nIt was much later before religions managed to declare this after-life as\nthe more valuable and perfect and to debase our mortal life to a mere\npreparation for the life to come. It was then only logical to prolong\nour existence into the past and to invent former existences,\ntransmigrations of souls, and reincarnations, all with the object of\ndepriving death of its meaning as the termination of life. It was as\nearly as this that the denial of death, which we described as the\nproduct of conventional culture, originated.\n\nContemplation of the corpse of the person loved gave birth not only to\nthe theory of the soul, the belief in immortality, and implanted the\ndeep roots of the human sense of guilt, but it also created the first\nethical laws. The first and most important prohibition of the awakening\nconscience declared: Thou shalt not kill. This arose as a reaction\nagainst the gratification of hate for the beloved dead which is\nconcealed behind grief, and was gradually extended to the unloved\nstranger and finally also to the enemy.\n\nCivilized man no longer feels this way in regard to killing enemies.\nWhen the fierce struggle of this war will have reached a decision every\nvictorious warrior will joyfully and without delay return home to his\nwife and children, undisturbed by thoughts of the enemy he has killed\neither at close quarters or with weapons operating at a distance.\n\nIt is worthy of note that the primitive races which still inhabit the\nearth and who are certainly closer to primitive man than we, act\ndifferently in this respect, or have so acted as long as they did not\nyet feel the influence of our civilization. The savage, such as the\nAustralian, the Bushman, or the inhabitant of Terra del Fuego, is by no\nmeans a remorseless murderer; when he returns home as victor from the\nwar path he is not allowed to enter his village or touch his wife until\nhe has expiated his war murders through lengthy and often painful\npenances. The explanation for this is, of course, related to his\nsuperstition; the savage fears the avenging spirit of the slain. But the\nspirits of the fallen enemy are nothing but the expression of his evil\nconscience over his blood guilt; behind this superstition there lies\nconcealed a bit of ethical delicacy of feeling which has been lost to\nus civilized beings.[4]\n\nPious souls, who would like to think us removed from contact with what\nis evil and mean, will surely not fail to draw satisfactory conclusions\nin regard to the strength of the ethical impulses which have been\nimplanted in us from these early and forcible murder prohibitions.\nUnfortunately this argument proves even more for the opposite\ncontention.\n\nSuch a powerful inhibition can only be directed against an equally\nstrong impulse. What no human being desires to do does not have to be\nforbidden, it is self-exclusive. The very emphasis of the commandment:\nThou shalt not kill, makes it certain that we are descended from an\nendlessly long chain of generations of murderers, whose love of murder\nwas in their blood as it is perhaps also in ours. The ethical strivings\nof mankind, with the strength and significance of which we need not\nquarrel, are an acquisition of the history of man; they have since\nbecome, though unfortunately in very variable quantities, the hereditary\npossessions of people of today.\n\nLet us now leave primitive man and turn to the unconscious in our\npsyche. Here we depend entirely upon psychoanalytic investigation, the\nonly method which reaches such depths. The question is what is the\nattitude of our unconscious towards death. In answer we say that it is\nalmost like that of primitive man. In this respect, as well as in many\nothers, the man of prehistoric times lives on, unchanged, in our\nconscious.\n\nOur unconscious therefore does not believe in its own death; it acts as\nthough it were immortal. What we call our unconscious, those deepest\nlayers in our psyche which consist of impulses, recognizes no negative\nor any form of denial and resolves all contradictions, so that it does\nnot acknowledge its own death, to which we can give only a negative\ncontent. The idea of death finds absolutely no acceptance in our\nimpulses. This is perhaps the real secret of heroism. The rational basis\nof heroism is dependent upon the decision that one's own life cannot be\nworth as much as certain abstract common ideals. But I believe that\ninstinctive or impulsive heroism is much more frequently independent of\nsuch motivation and simply defies danger on the assurance which\nanimated Hans, the stone-cutter, a character in Anzengruber, who always\nsaid to himself: Nothing can happen to me. Or that motivation only\nserves to clear away the hesitations which might restrain the\ncorresponding heroic reaction in the unconscious. The fear of death,\nwhich controls us more frequently than we are aware, is comparatively\nsecondary and is usually the outcome of the consciousness of guilt.\n\nOn the other hand we recognize the death of strangers and of enemies and\nsentence them to it just as willingly and unhesitatingly as primitive\nman. Here there is indeed a distinction which becomes decisive in\npractice. Our unconscious does not carry out the killing, it only thinks\nand wishes it. But it would be wrong to underestimate the psychic\nreality so completely in comparison to the practical reality. It is\nreally important and full of serious consequences.\n\nIn our unconscious we daily and hourly do away with all those who stand\nin our way, all those who have insulted or harmed us. The expression:\n\"The devil take him,\" which so frequently crosses our lips in the form\nof an ill-humored jest, but by which we really intend to say, \"Death\ntake him,\" is a serious and forceful death wish in our unconscious.\nIndeed our unconscious murders even for trifles; like the old Athenian\nlaw of Draco, it knows no other punishment for crime than death, and\nthis not without a certain consistency, for every injury done to our\nall-mighty and self-glorifying self is at bottom a _crimen laesae\nmajestatis_.\n\nThus, if we are to be judged by our unconscious wishes, we ourselves\nare nothing but a band of murderers, just like primitive man. It is\nlucky that all wishes do not possess the power which people of primitive\ntimes attributed to them.[5] For in the cross fire of mutual\nmaledictions mankind would have perished long ago, not excepting the\nbest and wisest of men as well as the most beautiful and charming women.\n\nAs a rule the layman refuses to believe these theories of\npsychoanalysis. They are rejected as calumnies which can be ignored in\nthe face of the assurances of consciousness, while the few signs through\nwhich the unconscious betrays itself to consciousness are cleverly\noverlooked. It is therefore in place here to point out that many\nthinkers who could not possibly have been influenced by psychoanalysis\nhave very clearly accused our silent thought of a readiness to ignore\nthe murder prohibition in order to clear away what stands in our path.\nInstead of quoting many examples I have chosen one which is very famous.\nIn his novel, _P\u00e8re Goriot_, Balzac refers to a place in the works of J.\nJ. Rousseau where this author asks the reader what he would do if,\nwithout leaving Paris and, of course, without being discovered, he could\nkill an old mandarin in Peking, with great profit to himself, by a mere\nact of the will. He makes it possible for us to guess that he does not\nconsider the life of this dignitary very secure. \"To kill your mandarin\"\nhas become proverbial for this secret readiness to kill, even on the\npart of people of today.\n\nThere are also a number of cynical jokes and anecdotes which bear\nwitness to the same effect, such as the remark attributed to the\nhusband: \"If one of us dies I shall move to Paris.\" Such cynical jokes\nwould not be possible if they did not have an unavowed truth to reveal\nwhich we cannot admit when it is baldly and seriously stated. It is well\nknown that one may even speak the truth in jest.\n\nA case arises for our consciousness, just as it did for primitive man,\nin which the two opposite attitudes towards death, one of which\nacknowledges it as the destroyer of life, while the other denies the\nreality of death, clash and come into conflict. The case is identical\nfor both, it consists of the death of one of our loved ones, of a parent\nor a partner in wedlock, of a brother or a sister, of a child or a\nfriend. These persons we love are on the one hand a part of our inner\npossessions and a constituent of our own selves, but on the other hand\nthey are also in part strangers and even enemies. Except in a few\ninstances, even the tenderest and closest love relations also contain a\nbit of hostility which can rouse an unconscious death wish. But at the\npresent day this ambivalent conflict no longer results in the\ndevelopment of ethics and soul theories, but in neuroses which also\ngives us a profound insight into the normal psychic life. Doctors who\npractice psychoanalysis have frequently had to deal with the symptom of\nover tender care for the welfare of relatives or with wholly unfounded\nself reproaches after the death of a beloved person. The study of these\ncases has left them in no doubt as to the significance of unconscious\ndeath wishes.\n\nThe layman feels an extraordinary horror at the possibility of such an\nemotion and takes his aversion to it as a legitimate ground for\ndisbelief in the assertions of psychoanalysis. I think he is wrong\nthere. No debasing of our love life is intended and none such has\nresulted. It is indeed foreign to our comprehension as well as to our\nfeelings to unite love and hate in this manner, but in so far as nature\nemploys these contrasts she brings it about that love is always kept\nalive and fresh in order to safeguard it against the hate that is\nlurking behind it. It may be said that we owe the most beautiful\nunfolding of our love life to the reaction against this hostile impulse\nwhich we feel in our hearts.\n\nLet us sum up what we have said. Our unconscious is just as inaccessible\nto the conception of our own death, just as much inclined to kill the\nstranger, and just as divided, or ambivalent towards the persons we love\nas was primitive man. But how far we are removed from this primitive\nstate in our conventionally civilized attitude towards death!\n\nIt is easy to see how war enters into this disunity. War strips off the\nlater deposits of civilization and allows the primitive man in us to\nreappear. It forces us again to be heroes who cannot believe in their\nown death, it stamps all strangers as enemies whose death we ought to\ncause or wish; it counsels us to rise above the death of those whom we\nlove. But war cannot be abolished; as long as the conditions of\nexistence among races are so varied and the repulsions between them are\nso vehement, there will have to be wars. The question then arises\nwhether we shall be the ones to yield and adapt ourselves to it. Shall\nwe not admit that in our civilized attitude towards death we have again\nlived psychologically beyond our means? Shall we not turn around and\navow the truth? Were it not better to give death the place to which it\nis entitled both in reality and in our thoughts and to reveal a little\nmore of our unconscious attitude towards death which up to now we have\nso carefully suppressed? This may not appear a very high achievement and\nin some respects rather a step backwards, a kind of regression, but at\nleast it has the advantage of taking the truth into account a little\nmore and of making life more bearable again. To bear life remains, after\nall, the first duty of the living. The illusion becomes worthless if it\ndisturbs us in this.\n\nWe remember the old saying:\n\n            _Si vis pacem, para bellum._\n    If you wish peace, prepare for war.\n\nThe times call for a paraphrase:\n\n           _Si vis vitam, para mortem._\n    If you wish life, prepare for death.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[1] Compare Heine's poem, \"Der Asra,\" Louis Untermeyer's translation, p.\n269, Henry Holt & Co., 1917.\n\n[2] Totem and Taboo, translated by Dr. A. A. Brill, Moffat, Yard & Co.,\n1918.\n\n[3] Totem and Taboo, Chapter IV.\n\n[4] Totem and Taboo, Chapter IV.\n\n[5] See Totem and Taboo, Chapter III.","title":"Reflections on War and Death","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":9596}