Oct. 1, 2002

Why War Now: Historians and Pre-War Frenzies

The Parallels With the War of 1812

By Peter Hill

Why war now, why not sooner? This question, often put to the Bush Administration in recent weeks, also troubled the historian Henry Adams who faulted James Madison for asking Congress to declare war on Great Britain in June 1812 when it was obvious that British impressment of American seamen and their seizures of American shipping were no more war-provoking in 1812 than they had been for almost a decade.

Actually, in this instance, Madison’s timing had much to recommend it. As later historians point out, London had given no sign of abating her maritime offenses, and the President could reasonably count on a show of hostility to win concessions without too much fighting because Britain appeared to be more vulnerable in the early summer of 1812 than ever before. The President could reckon, for example, that if Napoleon’s march to the east resulted in Russia’s defeat, the British would be left without European markets or allies. If, as well, the French Emperor’s strenuous shipbuilding program, recently undertaken, succeeded in nullifying Britain’s naval superiority, Americans could expect to gain at least some of their war aims at the peace table. In this light, the moment seemed opportune. Still, Adams raises a recurrent question, and because historians are a contentious lot, they will doubtless continue to question the timing of war declarations whether they be against Britons in 1812 or Saddam Hussein in 2002. This sort of controversy comes with the territory.

But Adams’s question — of why war now and not sooner? — suggests another contemporary parallel, that of weighing the cumulative impact of the enemy’s offenses. Adams won’t quite admit that the president and Congress by 1812 had reached the point of “enough is enough,” which they surely had if one is to judge from their rhetoric. Thus, just as the “warhawks”(as their enemies called them) made clear they had had a bellyful of England’s multiple abuses by 1812, so now the hawks in the Bush White House point to the many sins of Saddam Hussein. If there is a “lesson of history” here, it may be that the more reasons for war, the better.

Or is it? What if, on the brink of war, the enemy makes a major concession? Do war plans still go forward? As of this writing, the Iraqi leader has averted direct confrontation by once more agreeing to accept weapons inspectors. Similarly, in 1812, five days before Congress voted for war, Lord Castlereagh announced the British ministry’s suspension of its offensive orders-in-council. This retreat left, as a grievance, only the substantive issue of impressment plus, of course, a strong urge to stomp the Brits, if we could, for having dissed our proud nationhood. These, it turned out, were reasons enough to fight on. Query: If Saddam makes concessions, will we still have reasons enough to pursue him?

In considering the subject of pre-war frenzies, historians also often remark on the predictable appearance of the “demonizing” factor. Before wars are declared, they find the press and public working up a sweaty hatred of the enemy, whether by buying into the image of a saber-rattling Kaiser, or a world-threatening Hitler, or in this case, a terroristic Saddam Hussein. This may be easy today, but consider the problem the image makers faced in 1812 when our chosen enemies were the Brits, but Napoleon, also an obvious bad guy, had done almost as much damage to American shipping. That we became France’s co-belligerent, not her ally, speaks volumes about the difficulty of choosing the right enemy. (Saddam or al Qaeda?)

Looking for such historical parallels may be a plaything for the historically inclined; still, some pre-war phenomena recur often enough to bear watching. Writing in 1983, for example, historians Ronald Hatzenbueler and Robert Ivie, published a work on approaches to the War in 1812 whose title identified “leadership, rhetoric, and partisanship” as the essential elements in the decision-making process. All three of these political elements are so demonstrably present today that some future historian may put them in the title of his own analysis of this era. All of this is not to say that history ever quite repeats itself, but sometimes it burps predictably.

Peter P. Hill is a professor of history (emeritus) and University Historian

 

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