Philosopher at the Admiralty

Peter Johnson

Description

This book is volume one of a two-part series (volumes sold separately). Taken together, the two volumes of A Philosopher at War examine the political thought of the philosopher and archaeologist, R.G. Collingwood, against the background of the First and Second World Wars. Collingwood served in Admiralty Intelligence during the First World War and although he was not physically robust enough to play an active role in the Second World War, he was swift to condemn the policies of appeasement which he thought largely responsible for bringing it about.The author uses a blend of political philosophy, history and discussion of political policy to uncover what Collingwood says about the First World War, the Peace Treaty which followed it and the crises which led to the Second World War in 1939, together with the response he mustered to it before his death in 1943. The aim is to reveal the kind of liberalism he valued and explain why he valued it. By 1940 Collingwood came to see that a liberalism separated from Christianity would be unable to meet the combined evils of Fascism and Nazism. How Collingwood arrived at this position, and how viable he finally considered it, is the story told in these volumes.

Sujets

• Philosophie et théologie
• Western philosophy

Informations

• Publié par: Andrews UK
• Date de parution: 29 mai 2012
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781845404307
• Langue: English

Extrait

Title page
A PHILOSOPHER AT THE ADMIRALTY
R. G. COLLINGWOOD AND THE FIRST WORLD WAR
A Philosopher at War Volume One
Peter Johnson



Copyright page
Copyright © Peter Johnson 2012
The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form without permission, except for the quotation of brief passages in criticism and discussion.
Published in the UK by
Imprint Academic, PO Box 200, Exeter EX5 5YX, UK
Published in the USA by
Imprint Academic, Philosophy Documentation Center
PO Box 7147, Charlottesville, VA 22906-7147, USA
2012 digital version by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library and US Library of Congress



General Preface
The two volumes of A Philosopher at War examine the political thought of the philosopher and archaeologist, R. G. Collingwood, against the background of the First and Second World Wars. Both wars were world shattering and world creating events.
Collingwood served in Admiralty Intelligence during the First World War and was involved with the British preparations for the Peace Conference that followed the end of hostilities. Hopes for a better world and plans for peace and security in the two decades following 1919 were widespread. As the post-war mood turned sour in the 1930s it seemed as if little could be done to avoid another catastrophe. Collingwood’s political thought is never far from the sound of battle and, although he was not physically robust enough to play an active role in the Second World War, he was swift to condemn the policies of appeasement which he thought largely responsible for bringing it about.
The guiding principles of Collingwood’s philosophical liberalism - freedom, civility and peace - originated primarily from the philosophical problems which troubled him, but they were forged in response to events, in the case of the two major wars of the twentieth century, events of world historical significance. Political practice, Collingwood argued, came before theory, but a theory properly attuned to events holds out the promise of clarifying practice and enlarging it in the name of the political ideals liberals believe in. So to Collingwood’s mind political philosophy must be understood in close conjunction with the philosophy of history. My line of approach in both volumes is dictated by these priorities.
I use a blend of political philosophy, history and discussion of political policy to uncover what Collingwood says about the First World War, the Peace Treaty that followed it and the crises that led to the Second World War in 1939, together with the response he mustered to the war before his death in 1943. My aim is to reveal the kind of liberalism he valued and explain why he valued it. Even though some reference to biographical fact is unavoidable, the work is not intended as a biography. Neither is it intended as an intellectual biography, since I set aside much of the context of Collingwood’s thought, the influences on it and its overall coherence.
Collingwood wrote about politics in full consciousness that he lived in momentous times. For liberals, whose main focus is peace and the avoidance of war, they were also times in which hard choices were often thought necessary. Collingwood did not believe with Nietzsche that we sail upon open and boundless seas, but he did believe that our choices are our own. No material, either in nature or circumstance, determines the actions of human beings, and if their choices are shaped by history they are not made by it. By 1940 Collingwood came to see that a liberalism separated from Christianity would be unable to meet the combined evils of fascism and Nazism. How Collingwood arrived at this position, and how viable he finally considered it, is the story told in this book.
And sometimes this third R. G. C. woke right up; for example, on a day soon after the beginning of August, 1914, when a crowd of Northumberland coal-miners, full of patriotic fervour, saw what they imagined to be a German spy on ‘the old Roman camp’ up the hill, and took appropriate action.
R. G. Collingwood, An Autobiography
If I had a big proposition to handle and could have my pick of helpers I’d plump for the Intelligence Department of the British Admiralty. Yes, sir, I take off my hat to your Government sleuths.
John Buchan, The Adventures of Richard Hannay



Introduction
In Britain during the First World War a significant number of academics worked in government departments or as civilians in military planning and administration. As the conflict intensified and the need for government staff increased the universities were seen to be a vital source of qualified personnel. Many academics took leave and volunteered their support, often unpaid, to the war effort. The philosopher and archaeologist, R. G. Collingwood, was one. Between 1916 and 1919 Collingwood worked for the Naval Intelligence Division of the Admiralty, in its Geographical Section, code named I. D. 32, mainly on British preparations for the Peace Conference in Paris which followed the end of the First World War. From being a philosopher at an Oxford college Collingwood became a Temporary Clerk in the Admiralty. Among those who worked in the same section were three philosophers, Hastings Rashdall, Samuel Alexander and H. J. Paton. Geographers, historians and classicists were also employed there. We now know a great deal about the combination of circumstances that took a young philosopher in his mid-twenties from his study to a room in the Admiralty. We also know a lot more about the kind of organisation he joined and the work he did there. On this basis we should be able to go a step further to reconstruct something of his attitudes at the time and the spirit in which he carried out his work. Since the Paris Peace Conference was a decisive event in twentieth-century political history the role played by R. G. Collingwood, one of the twentieth century’s foremost philosophers of history, should repay examination.
Philosophers rarely stop being philosophers even when they are doing something entirely different. This was Collingwood’s experience during his time at the Admiralty. He continued his work in philosophy not always by publishing his results, but certainly by pondering philosophical questions, as he did during his daily walk through Kensington on his way to work in Naval Intelligence. On the route that became familiar to him, through Kensington Gardens to the Royal Geographical Society where I. D. 32 was first housed, Collingwood puzzled over the problem of how the Albert Memorial, an object he thought loathsome, could ever have been considered a work of art at all. Out of these musings emerged Collingwood’s logic of question and answer, one of his most revolutionary ideas and one that is central to his understanding of historical method. Had they known of these reflections it is doubtful if many of Collingwood’s co-workers in the Admiralty would have judged their colleague eccentric. For the Admiralty Intelligence Division was itself not short of quirky, brilliant individuals. It worked in an atmosphere that mixed discordant idiosyncrasy with professionalism and it included more than its fair share of near lunatic genius, such as Ronnie Knox, the cryptographer, who did his best work in the bath, not, possibly, a habit unusual in itself, but made so by his insisting that his bath took place in his office.
Historians of philosophy most commonly restrict themselves to the history of arguments, pausing only briefly to mention some biographical fact that they believe may be illuminating, such as the date of Hobbes’ birth coinciding with the arrival of the Armada. Why, then, spend time looking at what a philosopher did outside philosophy? Surely, the sceptical reader will point out, Collingwood’s activities at the Admiralty have as much bearing on his thought as, for example, Gilbert Ryle’s involvement in counterespionage in the Second World War did on his book, The Concept of Mind ? Or, to take another instance, the fact that Wittgenstein had some of his best ideas while peeling potatoes in the army does little by way of opening up the more intractable aspects of the Tractatus . To switch fields for a moment, art historians tend not to be much bothered by what Michelangelo had for lunch. Well, we might respond, yes, but, then, can the biography of a philosopher afford to be so stereotyped? Surely, the division of a life into compartments risks foreclosing the investigation before it starts. Much more important and, indeed, pressing in Collingwood’s case, is the self-understanding of the philosopher himself. For Collingwood in his autobiography discloses his state of mind with such vividness and in such distinctive language that it is impossible to discount. To ignore what Collingwood said about himself erases one of the most valuable sources of evidence we have for his attitudes and beliefs at the time. Thus, Collingwood’s autobiographical picture of his wartime life as a struggle against self-segregation is highly pertinent to the story that we have to tell.
Two topics predominate in Collingwood’s thinking as it evolved during his formative years, first, the attempt to forge a link between history and politics, second, to unite theory and practice. Together they are a major part of Collingwood’s project for reinstating the connection between thought and action. But a quest such as this is conditional on Collingwood’s discontentment with the world as he saw it. So it seems highly relevant that the preparations for peace on which Collingwood worked were bedevilled by precisely the divorce between action and theory that he wished to overcome. And there is another twist that com