CASUAL COMMENTS

Press, Volume LXIII, Issue 19162, 19 November 1927, Page 13

CASUAL COMMENTS

FRIENDS AND ENEMIES. (iPKCULLT WBnTBS JOB THB TBBSS.) [By Lbo Fanning.] According to the oft-heard remarks cf platitudinous dogmatists, a - man's worst enemies may be his best friends, in the ultimate effect of their attentions, and tfe friends he likes best may prove to be his worst enemies if they habitually overlook or condone his faults, or let him linger too long in a fool's paradise. The good helpful friend must be occasionally "cruel to be kind," although that sort of kindness is not always properly appreciated. * * # The enemy who is plotting or scheming—or even striving honestly—to grab your job, your clients, or your customers keeps you from getting fatty degeneration of the mind. You have to he up and doing—particularly "doing" your enemy, if you can. Yet you should be grateful*to him, as an insurance policy against slackness, slovenliness, or carelessness in your profession or trade. You are probably making more money, or more fame, as the result of your vigilant enemy's interest in your affairs. The man without an active enemy is either in the sad field of failure or on the way to it, or else is an amiable nonentity with no more aggressiveness in him than a rabbit.

Many writers have referred to the ceaseless surge of enmities in Nature's worid, in the air, on land, and in the sea —"one thing after another" all the time. One reads pleasant narratives of the friendliness of tho tuatara and the mutton-bird, sharing the same hole, and the partnership of the little pilot fish and she shark, but these peaceful associations are merely reminders of the general raging warfare. Nature has evolved her best and strongest types through millions of years of enmities.

New Zealand's kiwi is threatened now with extinction because ages ago this bird's ancestry—by a queer oversight of Nature—lacked an enemy. It' dogs, stoats, weasels, and other enemies had been here in the dim past, the birds would not have lost their power of flight. The kiwi, nocturnal, hidden away in the dense depths of the forest, felt safe. How was it to know that dkigs and other intruders would come and make it pay the penalty for neglecting its wings? Some jjeople to-day would like to see Great Britain lapsing into kiwi-ism in national and international affairs.

Political parties have a wide variety of friends and enemies. The worst enemy of a Government is the member who plays occasionally the role of "candid friend" in a vote-catching mood cf independence. He parades a tender conscience on some questions, and votes against his Party. Whatever may be the name of a Party, and whatever may be its policy, the best provider of ammunition for the other side is the "candid friend." Whether a Party is in or out of power there is only one thing to do with a wobbly member—and that is to give him a full license to wander in the wilderness.

One of the best friends of a strong Government is a consistent, keen critic (provided he is not powerful enough to be utterly destructive). The greatest danger which any Government runs in any democratic country is in weakness of opposition, for a feeble enmity tends to give a false sense of security, and may blur the vision of signs of the times.

Which nations will be friendls and which will be enemies of the British Empire next year, five years hence, a decade, a <enturv? In 1815 Great Britain was allied with Germany against Napoleon. In 1914-1918 Great Britain was the friend of France against Kaiser Wilhelm. In each case Great Britain was fighting against world domination by another Power. After the Anglo-French brotherhood in arms a few years ago for the world's peace, it seemed that never again would they have cause for quarrel, and yet during the various readjustments since 1918 public opinion has been hotly stirred up against Britain in France by hostile or unfair propagandists. They alleged that Britain had dbne much better out of the war than France, and many millions of the French lent an ear for a while to that pernicious nonsense. Happily the air is clear again—but will it be clear for ever ?

With the cables, wireless, and other inventions.the world has much equipment to-day for the making of bettor understanding and goodwill among the nations, but, alas, the 'same machinerycan be used as actively for evil as for good. The highly-specialised and thor-oughly-organised arts and crafts of propaganda can quickly make much mischief which is only slowly undone —and may not be wholly undone in the course of a generation. The maintenance of the world's peace will not be nearly so dependent ,on the present League of Nations or on a much-strengthened League as on propaganda—and who will prophesy to-day about the propaganda of the future and expect his words to be taken seriously?

Some mild wordiness was strewn through the world on Armistice Day. "There must be "no more war," ran the breezy opening of one message from Londton. The maker of that statement might as well have said:—"There must be no more sand-flies; no more colds in the head; no more wet Saturdays; no more increases of taxation." "The dangerous drift into war talk has been most apparent," the anonymous cheerful philosopher went on. War talk about what? Talk of war with whom? The philosopher did not say, but continued thus: —"Even last week people spoke almost glibly of the next war. Great journalists and statesmen were found dangerously discussing the form and type. Responsible journals published elaborate details. Dean Inge wrote —": but that is enough. That stuff is about on a par with the recent cabled opinions of British boy "Bolshies" on the "gloriousness of revolutions." It is tosh to the nth. power multiplied by a huge surd.

Was Britain slipping last week into awful warfulness as casually as a legislator might glide into his club for a tonic! The great mass of the people of Great Britain, France, Italy, Germany, and Austria—countries still suffering sorely from the last war, which crippled victors and vanquished alike — have as much inclination at present to be involved in a big war as a brokenlegged athlete would have to jump a five-barred gate. That feeling about the misery and havoc of war has been very intense since 1918, but it should not lead to the; fatuous belief that the world has seen the end of war. With old damage mended and forgotten a new generation (worked up by diabolical propaganda) in some part of Europe may break the peace.

Persons who emit and transmit nonsense which may weaken the public support of a sane defence policy arc not real friends of the commonweal. They may be well-meaning, but-inasmuch as their propaganda may induce a public unwillingness to maintain a national insurance policy—the misnamed "burden of defence" —they are enemies of the State. The main lesson of the Great War is in the necessity of great defence to safeguard a great peace. /Esop's fable about the feeble lion that was kicked to death by the ass should not be forgotten.