14
PARTISAN REVIEW
pointed out in our editorial last spring, fascism is produced by the
internal development of monopoly capitalism, not by any force of
arms from outside. In the same way, the foreign policies of the
fascist nations are determined, as are those of the "democracies,"
by the needs of their internal economies, which are still based on
capitalist property relations. The differences between this war and
the last are mostly to be found in new diplomatic forms and alli·
ances which merely play over the surface of events and can
be
understood only as reflections of the basic imperialist antagonisms
among the great powers of Europe.
If
fascism turned to aggression
as a matter of principle, spreading the true faith with fire and
sword in Islamic fashion, one would expect to find Italy and Ger·
many fighting together in this war. Actually, of course, the eco·
nomic and geographical differences between the two nations have
proved to be decisive, and Italy is not only neutral but may very
well repeat her performance of the last war and join the Allies.
Last spring we noted that no one looked forward with any
real enthusiasm or even confidence to the outcome of the second
world war. Now that the war has come, this is still true. The
embattled "democracies" have not ventured to define their war
aims any more specifically than, "Hitlerism Must Go!" (And what
must Come?) On both sides, the mo.rale of the
populati~n
is low.
For this is the tragedy's second performance. We have seen it
all before! This is where we came in! And it is impossible to
muster the same emotions of horror and surprise which the first
showing exacted from us. In the very novelty of the thing, in the
feeling, moreover, that an event so unprecedented must belong to
the order of natural calamities, the 1914 generation found some
little comfort. They had discovered, as Paul Valery said, that "the
most beautiful and ancient things, the most formidable and best·
ordered, are perishable
by accident."
But even the attitude of
discovery, the shocked surprise of the old-world humanist to
things undreamt of in his philosophy, is denied to us today. And
it
is a fact that the newspapers, the cartoons, and even those shrines
of 'moral indignation, the liberal journals, have so far shown
a
curious restraint. It is not the restraint of scientific detachment,
however, nor does it arise from a settled sense of rectitude; it
is
the low-toned voice of the guilty conscience. For most people know
today that war is not a cosmic accident, nor the result of cruel
impulses rooted in human nature. On the contrary they know
that
