long since ?nished and those that are still continuing and in the midst ofwhich I live. Some readers may be surprised by the changes of manner whichthis entails. I can only hope that the reader will realise the inevitability ofdiversi?cation and appreciate the unavoidable reticences necessitated by thelaw of libel.the autobiography of bertrand russell 48614RETURN TO ENGLANDCrossing the Atlantic in the ?rst half of 1944 was a complicated business.Peter and Conrad travelled on the Queen Mary at great speed but with extremediscomfort, in a ship completely crowded with young children and theirmothers, all the mothers complaining of all the other children, and all thechildren causing the maximum trouble by conduct exposing them to thedanger of falling into the sea. But of all this I knew nothing until I myselfarrived in England. As for me, I was sent in a huge convoy which proceededmajestically at the speed of a bicycle, escorted by corvettes and aeroplanes.I was taking with me the manuscript of my History of Western Philosophy, and theunfortunate censors had to read every word of it lest it should contain infor-mation useful to the enemy. They were, however, at last satis?ed that a knowl-edge of philosophy could be of no use to the Germans, and very politelyassured me that they had enjoyed reading my book, which I confess I foundhard to believe. Everything was surrounded with secrecy. I was not allowed totell my friends when I was sailing or from what port. I found myself at last ona Liberty ship, making its maiden voyage. The Captain, who was a jolly fellow,used to cheer me up by saying that not more than one in four of the Libertyships broke in two on its maiden voyage. Needless to say, the ship wasAmerican and the Captain, British. There was one o?cer who whole-heartedly approved of me. He was the Chief Engineer, and he had read TheABC of Relativity without knowing anything about its author. One day, as I waswalking the deck with him, he began on the merits of this little book and,when I said that I was the author, his joy knew no limits. There was one otherpassenger, a business man, whom the ship’s o?cers did not altogether likebecause they felt that he was young enough to ?ght. However, I foundhim pleasant and I quite enjoyed the three weeks of inactivity. There wasconsidered to be no risk of submarines until we were approaching the coastof Ireland, but after that we were ordered to sleep in trousers. However, therewas no incident of any kind. We were a few days from the end of our journeyon D-day, which we learned about from the wireless. Almost the wholeship’s crew was allowed to come and listen. I learned from the wirelessthe English for ‘Allons, enfants de la patrie, le jour de gloire est arrivé.’ TheEnglish for it is: ‘Well, friends, this is it.’They decanted us at a small port on the northern shore of the Firth of Forthon a Sunday. We made our way with some di?culty to the nearest town,where I had my ?rst glimpse of Britain in that war-time. It consisted, so far asI could see at that moment, entirely of Polish soldiers and Scotch girls, thePolish soldiers very gallant, and the Scotch girls very fascinated. I got a nighttrain to London, arrived very early in the morning, and for some time couldnot discover what had become of Peter and Conrad. At last, after much frantictelephoning and telegraphing, I discovered that they were staying with hermother at Sidmouth, and that Conrad had pneumonia. I went there at once,and found to my relief, that he was rapidly recovering. We sat on the beach,listening to the sound of naval guns o? Cherbourg.Trinity College had invited me to a ?ve-year lectureship and I had acceptedthe invitation. It carried with it a fellowship and a right to rooms in College.I went to Cambridge and found that the rooms were altogether delightful;they looked out on the bowling green, which was a mass of ?owers. It was arelief to ?nd that the beauty of Cambridge was undimmed, and I found thepeacefulness of the Great Court almost unbelievably soothing. But the prob-lem of housing Peter and Conrad remained. Cambridge was incredibly full,and at ?rst the best that I could achieve was squalid rooms in a lodging house.There they were underfed and miserable, while I was living luxuriously inCollege. As soon as it became clear that I was going to get money out of mylaw-suit against Barnes,1I bought a house at Cambridge, where we lived forsome time.VJ-day and the General Election which immediately followed it occurredwhile we were living in this house. It was also there that I wrote most of mybook on Human Knowledge, its Scope and Limits. I could have been happy inCambridge, but the Cambridge ladies did not consider us respectable. Ibought a small house at Ffestiniog in North Wales with a most lovely view.Then we took a ?at in London. Though I spent much time in visits to theContinent for purposes of lecturing, I did no work of importance duringthese years. When, in 1949, my wife decided that she wanted no more of me,our marriage came to an end.Throughout the forties and the early ?fties, my mind was in a state ofconfused agitation on the nuclear question. It was obvious to me that anuclear war would put an end to civilisation. It was also obvious that unlessthe autobiography of bertrand russell 488there were a change of policies in both East and West a nuclear war was sureto occur sooner or later. The dangers were in the back of my mind from theearly ’twenties. But in those days, although a few learned physicists wereappreciative of the coming danger, the majority, not only of men in thestreets, but even of scientists, turned aside from the prospect of atomic warwith a kind of easy remark that ‘Oh, men will never be so foolish as that’. Thebombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 ?rst brought the possibility ofnuclear war to the attention of men of science and even of some few politi-cians. A few months after the bombing of the two Japanese cities, I made aspeech in the House of Lords pointing out the likelihood of a general nuclearwar and the certainty of its causing universal disaster if it occurred. I forecastand explained the making of nuclear bombs of far greater power than thoseused upon Hiroshima and Nagasaki, fusion as against the old ?ssion bombs,the present hydrogen bombs in fact. It was possible at that time to enforcesome form of control of these monsters to provide for their use for peaceful,not warlike, ends, since the arms race which I dreaded had not yet begun. Ifno controls were thought out, the situation would be almost out of hand. Ittook no great imagination to foresee this. Everybody applauded my speech;not a single Peer suggested that my fears were excessive. But all my hearersagreed that this was a question for their grandchildren. In spite of hundredsof thousands of Japanese deaths, nobody grasped that Britain had escapedonly by luck and that in the next war she might be less fortunate. Nobodyviewed it as an international danger which could only be warded o? byagreement among the Great Powers. There was a certain amount of talk,but no action was taken. This easy-going attitude survives among the laityeven down to the present day. Those who try to make you uneasy bytalk about atom bombs are regarded as trouble-makers, as people to beavoided, as people who spoil the pleasure of a ?ne day by foolish prospects ofimprobable rain.Against this careless attitude I, like a few others, used every opportunitythat presented itself to point out the dangers. It seemed to me then, as it stillseems to me, that the time to plan and to act in order to stave o? approachingdangers is when they are ?rst seen to be approaching. Once their progress isestablished, it is very much more di?cult to halt it. I felt hopeful, therefore,when the Baruch Proposal was made by the United States to Russia. I thoughtbetter of it then, and of the American motives in making it, than I have sincelearned to think, but I still wish that the Russians had accepted it. However,the Russians did not. They exploded their ?rst bomb in August, 1949, and itwas evident that they would do all in their power to make themselves theequals of the United States in destructive – or, politely, defensive – power.The arms race became inevitable unless drastic measures were taken to avoidit. That is why, in late 1948, I suggested that the remedy might be the threatreturn to england 489of immediate war by the United States on Russia for the purpose of forcingnuclear disarmament upon her. I have given my reasons for doing this in anAppendix to my Common Sense and Nuclear Warfare. My chief defence of the viewI held in 1948 was that I thought Russia very likely to yield to the demands ofthe West. This ceased to be probable after Russia had a considerable ?eet ofnuclear planes.This advice of mine is still brought up against me. It is easy to understandwhy Communists might object to it. But the usual criticism is that I, a paci?st,once advocated the threat of war. It seems to cut no ice that I have reiterated adnauseum that I am not a paci?st, that I believe that some wars, a very few, arejusti?ed, even necessary. They are usually necessary because matters havebeen permitted to drag on their obviously evil way till no peaceful means canstop them. Nor do my critics appear to consider the evils that have developedas a result of the continued Cold War and that might have been avoided, alongwith the Cold War itself, had my advice to threaten war been taken in 1948.Had it been taken, the results remain hypothetical, but so far as I can see it isno disgrace, and shows no ‘inconsistency’ in my thought, to have given it.None the less, at the time I gave this advice, I gave it so casually withoutany real hope that it would be followed, that I soon forgot I had given it. I hadmentioned it in a private letter and again in a speech that I did not know wasto be the subject of dissection by the press. When, later, the recipient of theletter asked me for permission to publish it, I said, as I usually do, withoutconsideration of the contents, that if he wished he might publish it. He didso. And to my surprise I learned of my earlier suggestion. I had, also, entirelyforgotten that it occurred in the above-mentioned speech. Unfortunately, inthe meantime, before this incontrovertible evidence was set before me, I hadhotly denied that I had ever made such a suggestion. It was a pity. It isshameful to deny one’s own words. One can only defend or retract them. Inthis case I could, and did, defend them, and should have done so earlier butfrom a fault of my memory upon which from many years’ experience I hadcome to rely too unquestioningly.My private thoughts meanwhile were more and more disturbed. I becameincreasingly pessimistic and ready to try any suggested escape from the dan-ger. My state of mind was like a very much exaggerated nervous fear such aspeople are apt to feel while a thunder-storm gathers on the horizon and hasnot yet blotted out the sun. I found it very di?cult to remain sane or to rejectany suggested measures. I do not think I could have succeeded in this exceptfor the happiness of my private life.For a few years I was asked yearly to give a lecture at the Imperial DefenceCollege in Belgrave Square. But the invitations stopped coming after thelecture in which I remarked that, knowing that they believed you could notbe victorious in war without the help of religion, I had read the Sermon onthe autobiography of bertrand russell 490the Mount, but, to my surprise, could ?nd no mention of H-bombs in it. Myaudience appeared to be embarrassed, as they were good Christians as well as,of course, warriors. But, for myself, I ?nd the combination of Christianitywith war and weapons of mass extinction hard to justify.In 1948, the Western Powers endeavoured to create a union which shouldbe the germ of a World Government. The Conservative Party approved andwished Britain to become a member. The Labour Party, after some hesitation,opposed the scheme, but left individual members free to support it or not, asthey thought ?t. I joined and made a possibly somewhat excessive attackupon one of the few Communists present at the international Congressassembled at The Hague to consider the scheme. In his speech he hadmaintained that Communists have a higher ethic than other men. This wasjust after the fall of the Democratic Government of Czechoslovakia and myremarks had the complete agreement of the bulk of the people present.The younger Masaryk’s suicide as a result of his rough handling by theCommunists had shocked us all, and almost all of us had the conviction thatcooperation with the East was for the present impossible. I said: ‘If you canpersuade me that hounding your most eminent citizen to his death shows ahigher ethical outlook than that of the West, I shall be prepared to supportyou, but, till that time comes, I shall do no such thing.’Towards the end of the war, after my return to England, and for some timethereafter, the Government used me to lecture to the Forces. The Forces hadbecome more paci?c than I expected as the war neared its end, and I remem-ber that Laski and I were sent together on one occasion to speak to some ofthe air men. Laski was more radical than I was, and they all agreed with him.In the middle of my lecture I suddenly realised that half of my audience wascreeping out of the hall and I wondered if I had o?ended them in some waymore drastic than merely failing to be su?ciently radical. Afterwards, I wastold that the men had been called away to combat the last of the German airraids against England.At the time of the Berlin air lift, I was sent by the Government to Berlin tohelp to persuade the people of Berlin that it was worth while to resist Russianattempts to get the Allies out of Berlin. It was the ?rst and only time thatI have been able to parade as a military man. I was made a member of thearmed forces for the occasion and given a military passport, which amusedme considerably.I had known Berlin well in the old days, and the hideous destruction that I sawat this time shocked me. From my window I could barely see one house stand-ing. I could not discover where the Germans were living. This complete destruc-tion was due partly to the English and partly to the Russians, and it seemed to memonstrous. Contemplation of the less accountable razing of Dresden by my owncountrymen sickened me. I felt that when the Germans were obviously aboutreturn to england 491to surrender that was enough, and that to destroy not only 135,000 Germansbut also all their houses and countless treasures was barbarous.I felt the treatment of Germany by the Allies to be almost incredibly fool-ish. By giving part of Germany to Russia and part to the West, the victoriousGovernments ensured the continuation of strife between East and West,particularly as Berlin was partitioned and there was no guarantee of accessby the West to its part of Berlin except by air. They had imagined a peacefulco-operation between Russia and her Western allies, but they ought to haveforeseen that this was not a likely outcome. As far as sentiment was con-cerned, what happened was a continuation of the war with Russia as thecommon enemy of the West. The stage was set for the Third World War, andthis was done deliberately by the utter folly of Governments.I thought the Russian blockade was foolish and was glad that it was unsuc-cessful owing to the skill of the British. At this time I was persona grata with theBritish Government because, though I was against nuclear war, I was alsoanti-Communist. Later I was brought around to being more favourableto Communism by the death of Stalin in 1953 and by the Bikini test in1954; and I came gradually to attribute, more and more, the danger ofnuclear war to the West, to the United States of America, and less to Russia.This change was supported by developments inside the United States, such asMcCarthyism and the restriction of civil liberties.I was doing a great deal of broadcasting for the various services of the ???and they asked me to do one at the time of Stalin’s death. As I rejoicedmightily in that event, since I felt Stalin to be as wicked as one man could beand to be the root evil of most of the misery and terror in, and threatened by,Russia, I condemned him in my broadcast and rejoiced for the world in hisdeparture from the scene. I forgot the ??? susceptibilities and respectabilities.My broadcast never went on the air.In the same year that I went to Germany, the Government sent me toNorway in the hope of inducing Norwegians to join an alliance againstRussia. The place they sent me to was Trondheim. The weather was stormyand cold. We had to go by sea-plane from Oslo to Trondheim. When ourplane touched down on the water it became obvious that something wasamiss, but none of us in the plane knew what it was. We sat in the plane whileit slowly sank. Small boats assembled round it and presently we were told tojump into the sea and swim to a boat – which all the people in my partof the plane did. We later learned that all the nineteen passengers in thenon-smoking compartment had been killed. When the plane had hitthe water a hole had been made in the plane and the water had rushed in. Ihad told a friend at Oslo who was ?nding me a place that he must ?nd me aplace where I could smoke, remarking jocularly, ‘If I cannot smoke, I shalldie’. Unexpectedly, this turned out to be true. All those in the smokingthe autobiography of bertrand russell 492compartment got out by the emergency exit window beside which I wassitting. We all swam to the boats which dared not approach too near for fearof being sucked under as the plane sank. We were rowed to shore to a placesome miles from Trondheim and thence I was taken in a car to my hotel.Everybody showed me the utmost kindness and put me to bed while myclothes dried. A group of students even dried my matches one by one. Theyasked if I wanted anything and I replied, ‘Yes, a strong dose of brandy and alarge cup of co?ee’. The doctor, who arrived soon after, said that this wasquite the right reply. The day was Sunday, on which day hotels in Norwaywere not allowed to supply liquor – a fact of which I was at the timeunaware – but, as the need was medical, no objection was raised. Someamusement was caused when a clergyman supplied me with clerical clothingto wear till my clothes had dried. Everybody plied me with questions. Aquestion even came by telephone from Copenhagen: a voice said, ‘When youwere in the water, did you not think of mysticism and logic?’ ‘No’, I said.‘What did you think of?’ the voice persisted. ‘I thought the water was cold’, Isaid and put down the receiver.My lecture was cancelled as the man who had been intended to be theChairman had been drowned. Students took me to a place in the nearbymountains where they had an establishment. In going and coming, theywalked me about in the rain and I remarked that Trondheim was as wet out ofthe water as in it, a remark which seemed to please them. Apart from the rain,which turned to snow in the region of the mountains, I found Trondheima pleasant place, but I was a little puzzled when I learnt that the Bishoppronounced the place one way and the Mayor another. I adopted the Bishop’spronunciation.I was astonished by the commotion caused by my part in this adventure.Every phase of it was exaggerated. I had swum about one hundred yards, butI could not persuade people that I had not swum miles. True, I had swum inmy great-coat and lost my hat and thrown my attaché case into the sea. Thelatter was restored to me in the course of the afternoon – and is still in use –and the contents were dried out. When I returned to London the o?cials allsmiled when they saw the marks of sea water on my passport. It had been inmy attaché case, and I was glad to recover it.When I had returned to England in 1944, I found that in certain ways myoutlook had changed. I enjoyed once more the freedom of discussion thatprevailed in England, but not in America. In America, if a policemanaddressed us, my young son burst into tears; and the same was true (mutatismutandis) of university professors accused of speeding. The less fanatical atti-tude of English people diminished my own fanaticism, and I rejoiced in thefeeling of home. This feeling was enhanced at the end of the forties whenI was invited by the ??? to give the ?rst course of Reith lectures, instead ofreturn to england 493being treated as a malefactor and allowed only limited access to the young.I admired more than ever the atmosphere of free discussion, and thisin?uenced my choice of subject for the lectures, which was ‘Authority andthe Individual’. They were published in 1949 under that title and wereconcerned very largely with the lessening of individual freedom which tendsto accompany increase of industrialism. But, although this danger wasacknowledged, very little was done either then or since to diminish the evilsthat it was bringing.I proposed in these lectures to consider how we could combine that degreeof individual initiative which is necessary for progress with the degree ofsocial cohesion that is necessary for survival. This is a large subject, and theremarks that I shall make upon it here are no more than annotations on thelectures and sometimes expansions of subjects that have interested me sincewriting the book.The problem comes down, in my view, to the fact that society should striveto obtain security and justice for human beings and, also, progress. To obtainthese it is necessary to have an established framework, the State, but,also, individual freedom. And in order to obtain the latter, it is necessary toseparate cultural matters from the Establishment. The chief matter in whichsecurity is desirable now is security of nations against hostile enemies, and toachieve this a world government must be established that is strong enough tohold sway over national governments in international matters.Since no defence is possible for a single nation against a more powerfulnation or a group of such nations, a nation’s safety in international mattersmust depend upon outside protection. Aggression against a single nation byanother nation or group of nations must be opposed by international law andnot left to the wilful initiative of some warlike State. If this is not done, anyState may at any moment be totally destroyed. Changes in weapons mayfrequently alter the balance of power. It happened, for example, betweenFrance and England in the ?fteenth century when the Powers ceased todefend castles and came to depend upon moving armies with artillery. Thisput an end to the feudal anarchy which had until then been common. In likemanner, nuclear weapons must, if peace is to exist, put an end to war betweennations and introduce the practical certainty of victory for an internationalforce in any possible contest. The introduction of such a reform is di?cultsince it requires that the international Power should be so armed as to befairly certain of victory in warfare with any single State.Apart from this connection with the dangers of war now that weapons ofmass destruction were being developed, these lectures were important inmy own life because they give the background of a subject which hasabsorbed me in one way and another, especially since 1914: the relation of anindividual to the State, conscientious objection, civil disobedience.the autobiography of bertrand russell 494The prevention of war is essential to individual liberty. When war isimminent or actually in progress various important liberties are curtailed andit is only in a peaceful atmosphere that they can be expected to revive. As arule, the interference with liberty goes much further than is necessary, butthis is an inevitable result of panic fear. When Louis XVI’s head was cut o?other monarchs felt their heads insecure. They rushed to war and punishedall sympathy with the French Revolution. The same sort of thing, sometimesin a less violent form, happened when Governments were terri?ed by theRussian Revolution. If the individual is to have all the liberty that is his due,he must be free to advocate whatever form of government he considers best,and this may require the protection of an international authority, especiallysince nuclear weapons have increased the power of nations to interfere witheach other’s internal a?airs. Individual liberty in war-time should extend topersonal participation in war.In the course of these lectures, I gave a brief résumé of the growth anddecay of governmental power. In the great days of Greece there was not toomuch of it: great men were free to develop their capacities while they lived,but wars and assassinations often cut short their labours. Rome broughtorder, but at the same time brought a considerable degree of eclipse to theachievement of individuals. Under the Empire, individual initiative wasso curtailed as to be incapable of resisting new attacks from without. Fora thousand years after the fall of Rome, there was too little authorityand also too little individual initiative. Gradually, new weapons, especiallygunpowder, gave strength to governments and developed the modern State.But with this came excessive authority. The problem of preserving liberty in aworld of nuclear weapons is a new one and one for which men’s minds arenot prepared. Unless we can adapt ourselves to a greater search for libertythan has been necessary during the last few centuries, we shall sink intoprivate lethargy and fall a prey to public energy.It is especially as regards science that di?cult problems arise. The moderncivilised State depends upon science in a multitude of ways. Generally, thereis old science, which is o?cial, and new science, which elderly men lookupon with horror. This results in a continual battle between old men, whoadmire the science of their fathers, and the young men who realise the valueof their contemporaries’ work. Up to a point this struggle is useful, butbeyond that point it is disastrous. In the present day, the most importantexample of it is the population explosion, which can only be combated bymethods which to the old seem impious.Some ideals are subversive and cannot well be realised except by war orrevolution. The most important of these is at present economic justice. Politicaljustice had its day in industrialised parts of the world and is still to be soughtin the unindustrialised parts, but economic justice is still a painfully soughtreturn to england 495goal. It requires a world-wide economic revolution if it is to be broughtabout. I do not see how it is to be achieved without bloodshed or how theworld can continue patiently without it. It is true that steps are being taken insome countries, particularly by limiting the power of inheritance, but theseare as yet very partial and very limited. Consider the vast areas of the worldwhere the young have little or no education and where adults have not thecapacity to realise elementary conditions of comfort. These inequalities rouseenvy and are potential causes of great disorder. Whether the world will beable by peaceful means to raise the conditions of the poorer nations is, to mymind, very doubtful, and is likely to prove the most di?cult governmentalproblem of coming centuries.Ve r y di?cult problems are concerned with the inroads of war againstliberty. The most obvious of these is conscription. Military men, when thereis war, argue that it cannot be won unless all men on our side are compelledto ?ght. Some men will object, perhaps on religious grounds or, possibly, onthe ground that the work they are doing is more useful than ?ghting. On sucha matter there is liable to be, or at any rate there ought to be, a divisionbetween the old and the young. The old will say they are too aged to ?ght,and many of the young ought to say that their work is more useful towardsvictory than ?ghting.The religious objection to taking part in warfare is more widespread.Civilised people are brought up to think it is wicked to kill other people, andsome do not admit that a state of war puts an end to this ethical command.The number who hold this view is not very large, and I doubt whether anywar has ever been determined by their action. It is good for a community tocontain some people who feel the dictates of humanity so strongly that evenin war-time they still obey them. And, apart from this argument, it is barbar-ous to compel a man to do acts which he considers wicked. We should alladmit this if a law were proposed to punish a man for being a vegetarian, butwhen it is a human being whose life is at stake, we begin to wonder whether