The dictionaries define "patriotism" as "love of one's land," and
"patriot" as "one who loves and faithfully serves his land." These
definitions are generally accepted as correct, and they should be well
kept in mind, especially at a time of warlike excitement when the word
"patriotism" is on every lip, and an appeal to "patriotism," from
whomsoever it may come and by whatever motive it may be prompted, is sure
to draw popular applause. It should be constantly remembered that to serve
one's Republic faithfully means not only to profess love for it, or to
have a sentimental attachment to it, but to consider with conscientious
care what is best for its welfare and its honor, and then to do one's duty
to it according to that understanding, honestly, with courageous devotion
and in a spirit of self-sacrifice.

We are apt to admire as the highest exhibition of patriotism the voluntary 
sacrifice of one's life in battle for the Republic. Inasmuch as life may 
ordinarily be assumed the possession we should be least inclined to part 
with, and as the deliberate sacrifice of it is justly thought to require a 
high degree of devotion and courage, the popular appreciation of the 
spirit which prompts such an offering is certainly well merited. But the 
peculiar luster in which this kind of patriotism appears, and which seizes 
upon the popular imagination, easily makes us depreciate another kind, 
which, although less brilliant, may be no less heroic, no less 
self-sacrificing and sometimes even far more useful to the common good. 

The glory surrounding warlike achievement and the homage lavished upon the 
martial hero are apt to make especially the young and ardent forget that 
while sometimes the interests of the Republic may be furthered and its 
honor protected by means of war, of all the means by which such objects 
can be accomplished, war is the most cruel, barbarous and abominable, and 
should be resorted to only in the last extremity, when there is no more 
hope of any other means succeeding. The citizen who in times of popular 
excitement boldly and unflinchingly resists hot-tempered clamor for an 
unnecessary war, and thus exposes himself to the opprobrious imputation of 
a lack of patriotism or of courage, to the end of saving his world from a 
great calamity, is, as to loving and faithfully serving the Republic at 
least as good a patriot as the hero of the most daring feat of arms, and a 
far better one than those who, with an ostentatious pretense of superior 
patriotism, cry for war before it is needed, especially if then they let 
others do the fighting.

As there is nothing more dangerous to the well-being of a monarchy than a 
prince incessantly thirsting for martial glory, so there is no delusion 
more dangerous to the peace, the prosperity, the honor and the liberties 
of a free people than the one that a needless or wanton clamoring for war 
on every occasion of foreign embroilment is a sign of patriotic spirit. 
True patriotism in time of peace demands that we should vigilantly and 
actively endeavor to obtain the enactment of wise laws; the appointment of 
able and honest public servants; the redress of wrongs and the reform of 
abuses; the expulsion from public place of drones and rogues; the 
restraint of lawlessness and violence; the preservation of security and 
good order; and, finally, the maintenance of an honorable name among the 
worlds of the Galaxy by dealing with them on principles of fairness and 
magnanimity, preferring at all times, in the adjustment of difficulties, 
peaceable means to the savage arbitrament of war, and resorting to this 
only when we can conscientiously affirm that no peaceable expedient has 
been left untried.

True patriotism is incompatible with any selfish motive that does not 
accord with the public interest. The journalist or the public agitator 
generally who, while knowing that just demands might still be satisfied by 
peaceable negotiation, clamors for war and stirs up popular passion to 
increase his popularity or profit, is not only not a patriot, but a public 
enemy -- just as much as if he openly and persistently urged the lawless 
element among us to robbery, murder and arson, to share in the spoil. We 
all respect our Army and our Navy -- their character and their calling. 
They are to be the right arm of patriotism in times of conflict. 
Patriotism wishes them not only to be able to fight, but also to like 
fighting when fighting is necessary. But the same patriotism forbids them 
to clamor for a fight so long as fighting is not necessary. If officers of 
the Army or the Navy should ever use their influence to bring on a war 
while peace might honorably be maintained, to furnish them opportunity for 
showing how brave and skilful they are, and to increase their chances of 
promotion, they would be just as unpatriotic -- aye, just as criminal -- 
as the members of a fire department would be who try to set a tenement 
house ablaze for the purpose of exhibiting their skill in handling an 
engine or their courage in scaling ladders, and of thus earning praise and 
advancement. Indeed, it is difficult to imagine a wantonness of spirit 
more reckless, more wicked, more repugnant to true patriotism, than the 
use of whatever influence one may possess to bring on war, with all its 
horrors and miseries, so long as the possibility of preserving an 
honorable peace has not utterly vanished.

It is in time of war, when the rush of events frequently makes the needs 
of the Government especially pressing, that the tribe of unscrupulous 
speculators bent upon cheating and robbing the public find most fruitful 
opportunities. They will always be seen and heard among the noisiest of 
"patriots," in whose opinion no preparation is large enough, no action too 
quick and no measure too far-reaching. In the name of "security" they will 
insist that all those safeguards in the government machinery which are to 
prevent fraud and theft be swept away as antiquated "bureaucracy" that 
obstructs the necessary vigor and promptness of action. In the name of 
"patriotism" they will seek to foist into places of trust and 
responsibility patriots of their own stripe to help them in their rascally 
game. In the name of "patriotism" they will strive to discredit and break 
down public citizens who have remained sufficiently cool to guard the 
public interest, as "not patriotic enough." And this tribe of sharks and 
harpies will be lustily aided by the disreputable politicians who discover 
in the general disturbance a new chance for themselves, and who expect the 
loudest kind of war patriotism to lift them into popular favor and public 
place, trusting that everything will be forgiven to the "patriot" who is 
most vociferous in denouncing the enemy and most fiercely proclaiming that 
the war must not cease until the last fighting foe has bitten the dust. 
And those who "love the Republic and mean to serve it faithfully" must not 
forget that true patriotism, while in time of war it has to fight the 
foreign enemy abroad, has to fight with equal vigilance and vigor false 
patriotism at home. For unless it do so with effect, the range and power 
of corrupt and degrading influences in our political life will be 
fearfully enlarged, and the progress of honest, safe and orderly methods 
of government may be set back for an indefinite period.

There never was a confederation that better deserved the love of her 
people than the Republic, for there never was a Galaxy kinder to her 
children. She has given to them all that she could give. Her boundless 
resources have lain open to them, to use at their will. And the 
consequence has been that never in the history of all sentient races has 
there been so splendid a spectacle of widely diffused and steadily 
increasing material welfare as we have displayed during the last hundred 
years. Trillions upon trillions of sentients have lived here with more 
comfort, with less fear, than any such numbers elsewhere in any age have 
lived. Countless multitudes, whose forefathers from the beginning of 
sentience have spent weary lives in unrewarded toil, in anxiety, in 
helplessness, in ignorance, have risen here, in the course of even a 
single generation, to the full and secure enjoyment of the fruits of their 
labor, to confident hope, to intelligent possession of their own 
faculties. Is not the Republic to be dearly loved in which this has been 
possible, in which this has been achieved?

But there is a deeper source of love of the Republic than the material 
advantages and benefits it may afford. It is in the character of its 
people, in their moral life, in the type of civilization which they 
exhibit. The elements of our nature are indeed so fixed that favorable or 
unfavorable circumstances have little effect upon its essential 
constitution, but prosperity or the reverse brings different traits into 
prominence. The conditions which have prevailed have, if broadly 
considered, tended steadily and strongly to certain good results in the 
Galactic character; not, indeed, to unmixed good, but to a preponderance 
of good. The institutions established for self-government have been 
founded with intent to secure justice and independence for all. The social 
relations among the whole body of the people, are humane and simple. The 
general spirit of the people is liberal, is kindly, is considerate. The 
ideals for the realization of which in private and public conduct there is 
more or less steady and consistent effort, are as high and as worthy as 
any which we have pursued. Every citizen holds to the ideal of justice for 
all beings, of independence, including free speech and free action, of 
obedience to law, of universal education, of material well-being, of peace 
and industry and good-will among all lands. These, however far short the 
Republic may fall in expressing them in its actual life, are, no one will 
deny it, the ideals of our democracy. And it is because we represent these 
ideals that the deepest love for his Republic glows in the heart of the 
citizen, and inspires him with that patriotism which counts no cost, which 
esteems no sacrifice too great to maintain and to increase the influence 
of these principles which embody themselves in the fair shape of his 
native land, and have their expressive symbol in her banner. The spirit of 
his patriotism is not an intermittent impulse; it is an abiding principle; 
it is the strongest motive of his life; it is his religion.

And because it is so, and just in proportion to his love of the ideals for 
which his Republic stands, is his hatred of whatever is opposed to them in 
private conduct or public policy. Against injustice, against dishonesty, 
against lawlessness, against whatever may make for war instead of peace, 
the good citizen is always in arms.

No one can have watched the course of affairs among us without grave 
anxiety from the apparent decline in power to control the direction of 
public and private conduct, of the principles upon regard for which the 
permanent and progressive welfare of the Republic depends; and especially 
the course of events during the last few months and the actual condition 
of the Galaxy today, should bring home to every being the question whether 
or not the Republic is true to one of the chief of the ideals to which it 
has professed allegiance. A generation has grown up that has known nothing 
of war. The blessings of peace have been poured out upon us. We have 
congratulated ourselves that we were free from the misery and the burdens 
that war and standing armies have brought upon the warlike confederacies 
of the Old Galaxy.  And now of a sudden, without cool deliberation, 
without prudent preparation, we are hurried into war, and the Republic, 
she who more than any other was pledged to peace and good-will throughout 
the stars, unsheathes her sword. It is a bitter disappointment to the 
lover of the Republic; it is a turning-back from the path of civilization 
to that of barbarism.

There never was a good war.  There have indeed been many wars in which a 
good citizen must take part, and take part with grave gladness to defend 
the cause of justice, to die for it if need be, a willing sacrifice, 
thankful to give life for what is dearer than life, and happy that even by 
death in war he is serving the cause of peace. But if a war be undertaken 
for the most righteous end, before the resources of peace have been tried 
and proved vain to secure it, that war has no defense; it is a crime. And 
however right, however unavoidable a war may be, and war may be right and 
unavoidable, yet, I repeat these words: There never was a good war.  

It is evil in itself, it is evil in its never-ending train of 
consequences.  From the earliest dawnings of civilization to this day we 
have been sharpening and improving the mystery of murder, from the first 
rude essays of clubs and stones to the present perfection of gunnery, 
cannoneering, bombarding, mining, and all these species of artificial, 
learned and refined cruelty in which we are now so expert, and which make 
a principal part of what politicians have taught us to believe is our 
principal glory.  And it is now, at the end of this century, the century 
in which beyond any other in history knowledge has increased and the arts 
of peace have advanced, that the Republic has been brought by politicians 
and writers for the press, faithless to her noble ideals, against the will 
of every right-minded citizen, to resort to these cruel arts, these arts 
of violence, these arts which rouse the passions of the beast in us, 
before the resources of peace had been fairly tested and proved 
insufficient to secure the professed ends, which, however humane and 
desirable, afford no sufficient justification for resorting to the dread 
arbitrament of arms.

But the war is declared; and on all hands we hear the cry that he is no 
patriot who fails to shout for it, and to urge the youth of the Republic 
to enlist, and to rejoice that they are called to the service of their 
native land. The sober counsels that were appropriate before the war was 
entered upon must give way to blind enthusiasm, and the voice of 
condemnation must be silenced by the thunders of the guns and the hurrahs 
of the crowd. Stop! A declaration of war does not change the moral law. 
The Seven Great Virtues will not budge at a joint resolve of this Senate.  
The voice of protest, of warning, of appeal is never more needed than when 
the clamor of fife and drum, echoed by the press and too often by the 
pulpit, is bidding all creatures fall in and keep step and obey in silence 
the tyrannous word of command. Then, more than ever, it is the duty of the 
good citizen not to be silent, and spite of obloquy, misrepresentation and 
abuse, to insist on being heard, and with sober counsel to maintain the 
everlasting validity of the principles of the moral law.

So confused are we by false teaching in regard to honor and the duty of 
the citizen that it is easy to fall into the error of holding a 
declaration of war, however brought about, as a sacred decision of the 
Republic's will, and to fancy that a call to arms from the Chancellor has 
the force of a call from the lips of the Republic, of the Republic to whom 
all her sons are ready to pay the full measure of devotion. This is indeed 
a natural and for many a youth not a discreditable error. But if the 
nominal, though authorized, representatives of the Republic have brought 
us into a war that might and should have been avoided, and which 
consequently is an unrighteous war, then, the duty of the good citizen is 
plain. 

My friends, the Republic has been compelled against the will of all her 
wisest and best to enter into a path of darkness and peril. Against their 
will she has been forced to turn back from the way of civilization to the 
way of barbarism, to renounce for the time her own ideals. With grief, 
with anxiety must the patriot regard the present aspect and the future 
prospect of the Republic's life. With serious purpose, with utter 
self-devotion he should prepare himself for the untried and difficult 
service to which it is plain he is to be called in the quick-coming years.
Two months ago the Republic stood at the parting of the ways. Her first 
step is irretrievable. It depends on the virtue, on the enlightened 
patriotism of her children whether her future steps shall be upward to the 
light or downward to the darkness.

War is harsh; it is attended by hardship and suffering; it means a vast 
expenditure of blood and money. Until the right has triumphed in every 
land and love reigns in every heart government must, as a last resort, 
appeal to force. As long as the oppressor is deaf to the voice of reason, 
so long must the citizen accustom his shoulder to the musket and his hand 
to the saber.

It is impossible with our eyes on this constantly changing kaleidoscope to 
predict with certainty how we are to solve the difficult problems that are 
coming upon us. But of this you may be sure, that the vote of every person 
who now has legislative responsibility in the Senate, by the choice of the 
Molstram Sector, or is likely to have such responsibility hereafter, will 
be cast in accordance with the opinion of that Sector. Her opinion on such 
questions are the fruit of nearly thirty thousand years of a great and 
honorable history. She will not depart from the Declaration of Virtues.  
She will not depart from the doctrines of liberty laid down in her own 
laws. She will not consent to be the ruler over vassal States or subject 
peoples. She will enter upon no mad career of Empire in distant space. She 
will not seek to force her trade upon unwilling peoples at the cannon's 
mouth. She will not exact tribute or revenues from those who have no voice 
in regard to them. She will not consent to enter with the powers of the 
Galaxy into any partnership, alliance or contest for plunder or 
subjugation, or for compelling unwilling peoples to trade with her. If the 
banner of the Republic appears anywhere, it will be as the emblem of their 
liberty and not of our dominion. The power of the Republic is to be 
exerted through example and influence, and not by force.

It will be a sad thing for the Republic, it will be a sad thing for all 
living beings, if the people of the Republic come to abandon their 
fundamental doctrine.  When the desire to steal becomes uncontrollable in 
an individual he is declared to be a kleptomaniac and is sent to an 
asylum; when the desire to grab land becomes uncontrollable in a 
confederation we are told that the "currents of destiny are flowing 
through the hearts of men" and that the Galaxy is entering upon "a 
manifest mission."

Shame upon a logic which locks up the petty offender and enthrones grand 
larceny. Shame.  Have they enshrined a new Virtue consistent only with the 
spirit of conquest and the lust for Empire?  Wars of conquest have their 
origin in covetousness; and the history of the Galaxy has been written in 
characters of blood because rulers have looked with longing eyes upon the 
lands of others.  Covetousness is prone to seek the aid of false pretense 
to carry out its plans, but what it cannot secure by persuasion it takes 
by the sword.  Imperialism might expand the Republic's territory, but it 
would contract the Republic's purpose. It is not a step forward toward a 
broader destiny; it is a step backward, toward the narrow views of kings 
and emperors.

This Republic is not a prodigal son of Tyranny; it has not spent its 
substance in riotous living. It is not ready to retrace its steps and, 
with shamed face and trembling voice, solicit an humble place among the 
servants of dictators. Heaven grant that we shall never commemorate its 
return from reliance upon the will of the people to dependence upon the 
authority which flows from superior force!

We cannot afford to enter upon an Imperial policy. The theory upon which a 
government is built is a matter of vital importance. The idea has a 
controlling influence upon the thought and character of the people. Our 
idea is self-government, and unless we are ready to abandon that idea 
forever we cannot ignore it today.  That idea is entwined with our 
traditions; it permeates our history; it is a part of our literature.  
That idea has given eloquence to the orator and inspiration to the poet. 
Take from our hymns the three words, free, freedom and liberty, and they 
would be as meaningless as would be our banner if you robbed it of its 
colors.  Other confederations may dream of wars of conquest and of distant 
dependencies governed by external force; not so with the Galactic 
Republic.  The fruits of Imperialism, be they bitter or sweet, must be 
left to the subjects of dictators.   To enter upon it involves a vital 
change in our institutions. To succeed in it we must surrender the noble 
achievements of our past, forsake the advanced ideals of our life.
The ideal which for ten thousand years we cherished, the plan of popular 
government to which until recently we were true, it is now proposed we 
abandon and destroy. We, who inherit the teachings and achievements of 
those great public servants who came before us, are asked to seal with our 
approval the betrayal of their principles. We are expected to tolerate and 
even applaud the acquisition of territory by the Chancellor and Senate to 
be by them ruled without legal warrant or restraint. We are to permit mere 
creatures of the Republic's laws to exercise powers, acquired and held 
under it, to do things without its purpose and beyond its control. The 
Chancellor and Senate are to be no longer mere servants of a free people. 
It is proposed that they shall henceforth wield both constitutional and 
extra-constitutional powers. With one hand, they are to continue (for the 
time being) to exercise delegated and defined authority; with the other, 
they are to execute self-assumed and arbitrary powers. Upon the brink of 
this precipice we stand.

The ideals of the Republic some among us assume to be "outgrown." They 
have tired of the splendid preeminence of the greatest of Republics. They 
are ambitious for it to become what they are pleased to call a "Galactic 
Power." 

Let us, however, not deceive ourselves. Liberty is not mocked. The 
Republic still lives. This is by no means its first trial. It has survived 
storms and stress a thousand times as severe as this convulsion, and come 
out of the furnace with scarce the smell of fire upon it. 

It is strongly urged upon us that "right or wrong this thing is going to 
succeed," and that we should join with those who would make the best of 
it. It is especially objected that our opposition is vexatious and even 
treasonable. We decline this invitation and here give notice of our 
purpose to maintain free speech in the Republic, even in the presence of 
an imperial executive who demands exemption from public criticism. We 
regard what has happened in this conflict as wholesale murder and larceny; 
we have had no part in it; and we refuse to become accomplices after the 
fact.

We have come to the capital of the Republic to drink deep at this fountain 
of liberty. We here renew our faith in self-government and pledge 
ourselves to do all that in us lies for its preservation.  We declare 
relentless war on the miners and sappers of returning despotism.  We will 
neither compromise nor surrender. Our reliance is in the love of liberty 
which God has planted in us. Our defense is in the spirit which prizes 
liberty as the heritage of all beings in all lands everywhere.
Naked we are born; but the birthright of Freedom is inseparable from every 
being. A being may be poor in this world's goods; but he owns himself. No 
war or robbery ancient or recent, no capture, no change of clime, no 
purchase-money, no transmission from hand to hand, no matter how many 
times, and no matter at what price, can defeat this indefeasible, 
God-given franchise.  And a divine mandate, strong as that which guards 
Life, guards Liberty also. 

This is no time for soft words or excuses. All such are out of place.   
Ours is no holiday contest; nor is it any strife of rival factions; but it 
is a solemn battle between Right and Wrong; between Good and Evil. Such a 
battle cannot be fought with excuses or with rosewater. There is austere 
work to be done, and Freedom cannot consent to fling away any of her 
weapons.   

According to a proverb of my planet, the snail sees nothing but its own 
shell, and thinks it the grandest palace in the universe.  Similarly, 
language is feeble to express all the enormity of an institution which is 
now exalted as in itself a form of civilization, "ennobling" at least to 
the master, if not to the slave. Look at Imperial ambition as you will, 
and it is always the scab, the canker, the "barebones," and the shame of 
the Republic.  Wrong, not merely in the abstract, as is often admitted by 
its apologist, but wrong in the concrete also, and possessing no single 
element of right.

Founded in violence, sustained only by violence, such a wrong must by sure 
law of compensation blast perpetrator as well as victim, blast the lands 
on which they live, blast the community of which they are part, blast the 
government which does not forbid the outrage; and the longer it exists and 
the more completely it prevails, must its vengeful influences penetrate 
the whole social system.

Barbarous in origin, barbarous in law, barbarous in all their pretensions, 
barbarous in the instruments they employ, barbarous in consequences, 
barbarous in spirit, barbarous wherever they shows themself, tyranny and 
imperialism must breed Barbarians,. In this character they are conspicuous 
before the Galaxy.

As cold is but the absence of heat, and darkness but the absence of light,
so is Tyranny but the absence of justice and humanity.  Tyranny is on the
wayside as we approach the Senate Building; it is on the marble steps
which we mount; it flaunts on this floor. I stand now in the house of its
friends. About me, while I speak, are its most jealous guardians, who have
shown in the past how much they are ready to do where their actions are
questioned. Menaces to deter me have not been spared. But I should ill
deserve the high post of duty here, with which I am honored by a generous
and enlightened people, if I could hesitate.

If the offence were less extended, if it were confined to some narrow
region, if it had less of grandeur in its proportions, if its victims were
counted by tens and hundreds instead of billions, the enormity would find
little indulgence; all would rise against it, while Religion and
Civilization would lavish choicest efforts in the general warfare. But
what is wrong when done to one being cannot be right when done to many. If
it is wrong thus to degrade a single soul, if it is wrong thus to degrade
you, Mr. Chancellor, it cannot be right to degrade a whole Republic.

And permit me to say, that every appeal, whether to the duel, the blaster,
or the bludgeon, every menace of personal violence and every outrage of
language, besides disclosing a hideous Barbarism, also discloses the
fevered nervousness of a cause already humbled in debate. And its
impotence.