to their particular trend of thought and temperament, should put different constructions upon this phrase. To some, a war of ideas means a war with heavy guns and mitrailleuses, a war in which men kill each other to make their respective ideas triumphant. Others construe the phrase to mean a war in which ideas do all the fighting. But this is not the only reason which prompts some of the Russian revolutionaries to adopt the attitude of pacifism. Many of them draw, as President Wilson has done, a clear distinction between the German governing classes and the German people, They believe that the German people will deal with the Hohenzollerns as the Russians have dealt with the Romanovs. This is the view of the Social Democrats in Russia, who are mostly Marxists, and still cling to their faith in the German working classes. On the other hand, the Social Revolutionaries, who now style themselves 'National Socialists,' together with the anarchists like Kropotkin, have no illusions with regard to Marx and the German Socialists. They are convinced, as Bakunin was, that' the assumption of a real difference between 'the Prussian Government and the German people is illusory ' and sentimental'; that the Germans are the most 'reactionary and authoritative people' in the world, ‘lacking the 'instinct of liberty.' The Social Democrats say 'Let us reason ' with the mind of Germany and thus conquer'; the National Socialists more clear-sightedly reply 'Let us conquer and 'then we will reason.' Beyond this it may be said that the Marxists in Russia are bent upon shifting the war from a war of nations to a war of classes. They care little for the map of Europe, so long as their ideas of a social reconstruction emerge triumphant from the welter of sacrifices.

Another psychological current underlying the present ferment in Russia, another idea' struggling in the background ' of the Russian convulsion,' is the question of democracy and democratic control.' Here again men are apt to put different constructions upon the words 'democratic control.' When is it to begin? When will democracy really assert itself? If democratic control, they say, is to be the watchword of Europe in a not dim and distant future, if the triumph of democracy is to be the great conquest, the vast annexation wrested from Prussian militarism, then democracy should have a voice in the war, even before it has been brought to a

successful issue. Hitherto, say the democrats in Russia, war has been declared and carried on without our having been consulted; we have heard vague formulas and aspirations, but we have had no control of the war; we are ignorant of secret diplomatic arrangements and treaties; we know not to what extent the government has pledged the nation, its wealth and its future; we are told that this war is to lay the foundations for a new edifice, a new Europe; we labourers and wage-earners may have views as to the nature of that edifice different from those of the governing and capitalist classes; we are told this war is to be the end of the era of conquest; we do not want it to prepare the way for a new era of exploitation; we are all anxious to crush Prussian militarism, but you governing and capitalist classes may be anxious to do it for the benefit of the bourgeoisie; and, incidentally, the German bourgeoisie would profit, whilst our own proletariat would suffer; we Russian democrats have decided to continue the war and to carry it to a successful issue under really democratic control, which must from to-day enter into power; thus alone can we make our arrangements both for crushing Prussian militarism and for safeguarding the future of the working classes; we are quite content for our capitalists to suffer as well as German capitalists, and for the German working classes to gain as well as our own working classes.

Such are the cross-currents of the Russian Revolution, such are the thoughts and theories of the men in the forefront of the movement. They all spring from the different doctrines promulgated by the Russian philosophers, Herzen, Tshernyshevski, Lavrov, and Bakunin, who sowed the seeds of the revolution. We cannot expect the New Russia to emerge from this chaos without time and much travail.

ANGELO S. RAPPOPORT.

THE

SPAIN AND THE WAR

HE outbreak of war found Spain, speaking in broad terms, as ignorant of the true facts concerning the internal aspect of other European countries as those countries were themselves of Spanish internal affairs. Puzzled, perplexed, and not a little alarmed at the magnitude of the conflagration which had been suddenly ignited around them, the first gesture of the Spanish people was one of doubt and fear. The forward drive of the Hun through Belgium, and the events which took place in rapid succession until the battle of the Marne, the failure of the invaded to repel the invaders, the fall of Antwerp, all contributed to create a deep-rooted impression in the popular mind, suggesting to it the final triumph of Germany as inevitable. Russia was disorganised, France undisciplined and divided, Great Britain without an army and torn by internal struggles; what could the Entente do against a powerful nation like Germany, possessing the besttrained army in the world?

Ignorant as they were of the true facts concerning the different countries that became immediately involved in the war, the majority of Spanish people looked on the European arena with the same lens through which they were accustomed to regard their own internal problems and party differences. The real image was thus distorted and disfigured, and soon we saw a strong current of opinion directing itself towards one group of belligerents, which was not, unfortunately, the one towards which their sympathies should have inclined. The army, the clergy, and the aristocracy came to be regarded as pro-German.

The pro-Germanism of the army is capable of a more satisfactory explanation than that of the other two bodies. Spanish militarists did not fail to see that, at the outbreak of war, the German army was the best-trained, equipped, and organised in Europe. Every Spanish officer hoped that some day his country's army would equal that of the German Empire, in the same way as every Spanish sailor considers the British

navy to be the best navy in the world. This alone would account for the pro-German feeling that from the beginning prevailed among Spanish officers of all ranks. Strong prejudices against France served to feed and to keep alive this sentiment.

The clergy in Spain is not, as a rule, too democratic in its sentiments. It cannot forget the time when it was one of the predominant powers of the State; its constant desire is to see that power restored and its old influence recovered. It is fully aware of the unpopularity of the Catholic Church in Germany, but it believes at the same time that revolutionary and anti-clerical France, also democratic and protestant England, are responsible in a high degree for the decadence of the Church in Germany as well as in their own countries. A considerable number of the Spanish clergy profess Carlist and traditionalist sympathies; perhaps partly because they know the favour and esteem with which King Alfonso is regarded by the nations of the Entente. They persistently ignore the hardships of Catholics in Germany and in the invaded territories, preferring to recall the expulsion of the religious orders from France; they believe that a victorious Kaiser would restore temporal power to the Roman Church, and Gibraltar to Spain. German propaganda, hatred of radical France, and an ignorance truly disconcerting among men who, owing to their responsible position, ought to know better, these, and the desire again to take part in the public affairs of the nation, are some of the causes of pro-Germanism in the Spanish clergy.

The aristocracy hate democracy and republicanism; they remember that France and England contributed to Spain's decadence, and forget too readily their own grave responsibility in the downfall of their country's world power. The views of Señor Vazquez Mella, the Carlist leader, found, strange to say, a ready echo among ladies and gentlemen of the Court. A German victory represented to them the triumph of order, monarchy, and authority,' while 'corruption, anarchy, and 'radicalism' would follow a victory of England and France. Well seasoned with ignorance, these ingredients did not fail to produce a pro-German feeling among the Spanish nobility. We have endeavoured to explain above the causes that apparently account for the pro-German feeling of a part, and

an influential part, of the Spanish population. It is necessary to understand that feeling, and not to underrate its importance. But it must be remembered that the feeling is not unanimous, or anything approaching it, among the classes concerned. There are large numbers of the nobility, of the clergy, and of the army who are unconditionally on the side of the Allies, who defend the cause of the Allies because they know that it is linked to the welfare of their country, and who are perfectly aware of the evils that a German triumph would bring to Spain and to the whole world. And it is well to remember that those of the clergy, the aristocracy, and the army who are with the Allies represent the best and the soundest portion of these three elements of the life of the nation.

The effectiveness of the German propaganda campaign, prepared beforehand and carried out with as much energy as unscrupulousness, is mainly responsible for the sympathy felt in Spain towards the German cause. The fact that there are in the country between 100,000 and 120,000 Germans, who arrived in different periods of the war from France and Northern Africa, from Italy, the Cameroons and Portugal, should not be forgotten when we wish to account for those sympathies. It is absolutely certain that many newspapers, many campaigns, and many intrigues are not pro-German, but German pure and simple.

The reason for the pro-Ally sympathies felt by a numerous and important part of the Spanish population does not require explanation to the British public. Business men are proAlly, because they know that the material interests of Spain are united to those of the nations of the Entente. Spanish intellectuals regard France as their Mecca, and the political status of England as the realisation of their dreams. Spanish democrats-practically the whole of the Spanish people-fully understand the distance that separates the Allies from the Central Powers. In a word, the best part of Spain is pro-Ally, and, come what may, France and England can rely on the true friendship and warm support of a very large proportion of the Spanish people. Indeed, if Spanish intervention in the war were possible at all, it could only be on the side of the Entente Powers. But as far as can yet be seen Spanish intervention is impossible. It is true that in Spain there is not a man who may be truly termed 'neutral,' that is to say, in