William Jennings Bryan's Address to Congress, 1914

William Jennings Bryan’s Address to Congress, August 5th, 1914.

Distinguished Speaker Clark, Vice President Wilson, Senators, Congressmen,

I must apologize for addressing you with notes in hand. Perhaps I will one day have the opportunity to speak to you directly, from my own sense of conscience, and yet I can assure you that the words I will speak today are completely in accord with my own feelings, and the contrivance of these notes exists solely as an aid to my imperfect memory. I am sure all of you are familiar with that feeling that comes when addressing a matter infinitely more solemn and important than oneself; in such moments, one is bound to speak only those propositions which are the product of careful deliberation, and in these cases, the drafting of a speech is simply a measure to keep a man fully honest to his own thoughts. I ask simply for your indulgence and consideration.

Three days ago, we became aware of the descent of European civilization into war. I have consulted with generals, with businessmen, with ambassadors and diplomats from all of the warring powers. I have been told that this war will unleash horrors of which this world has been never acquainted, that it will reverse the progress of European culture and learning, that it may even be a prelude to a new and frightful wave of global barbarism.

Over the past year, this administration has sought to render the services of this nation for the cause of global peace. We have been mocked for our naivety and chided for our earnestness. Our success has been marginal, and our failures legion. In a final sense, there can be no excuse for these failings: the great imperial powers of Europe may have been deaf and blind to our pleas and gestures, but the bloodshed which will shortly ensue will torment me with the possibility that something more may have been done to avert this catastrophe.

Yet the sting on my conscience will not prevent this government from forthrightly addressing the reality of our situation. The nations of Europe have chosen the sword over the ploughshare and the pointed rifle over the open hand. We may be tempted into sympathy with one nation over another, to wage in our own minds the momentous struggle that now engulfs Europe. We may be tempted, too, into a position of neutrality and distance, to say: “America will leave this old and broken world alone, and stand apart!”.

To the man who has either of these urges, I say: resist temptation. We must be neutral, but we cannot tear ourselves from the bonds of human brotherhood. We must condemn the rush to war, but also remain in eternal sympathy with the human beings who are forced to wage it. We must condemn the decisions of the leaders who plunged Europe into a conflagration, while reminding ourselves that enmity and hatred are as poisonous to the righteous victim as they are to the callous offender. The deaths of millions shall hang on the consciences of those who have caused this war; they, too, shall number among its victims.

I have spent many nights thinking earnestly of the role of this great nation in the coming conflict. I have read and consulted the opinions of those who urge this nation to participate in the conflict, to “test its mettle” and “earn a place in the world”. These ideas have become fashionable and current; they are, in a sense, the currency of international politics. And yet I urge the men assembled here to consider their frightful consequences: that a nation can only claim moral leadership in the world by sending its youth to die in a conflict in which it has no essential stake. It is my duty as a Christian to denounce the Darwinist myth that the exercise of violence can ever be justified by the imperialist’s desire for power and glory or the militarist’s drive to substitute the sanctity of home and peaceful toil with the false allure of battle. I will not send Americans to die for these idle fantasies.

Neither will this American nation stand aloof and apart from the coming conflict. We will stand as that city upon a hill, with all eyes upon us: we will strive to persuade by example that peace may bring a harvest richer and more bounteous than war. We will welcome all who wish to join us, and bear no enmity or hatred for those who take longer than others. We will insist and ensure, by force if necessary, that war will not be allowed to fray the bonds of commerce and trade, and that the blinkered priorities of generals and politicians will not be permitted to trample upon the manifold needs of the suffering masses.

With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in right as God gives us to see it, we shall carry on the task of our civilization. We shall do so tirelessly, we shall do so even it must be done alone, toiling in the dark, with naught but the burning of the mid-night oil to comfort us - for we know that one day, we will be joined by the broad throng of humanity, and we will at last venture forth into those broad sunlit uplands in which grace and brotherhood reigns eternal…