In the 1940s American psychologist Abraham Maslow proposed a hierarchy of human needs. At the bottom of his ladder or pyramid were basic physiological needs—air, water, food, shelter. Humans who lacked these would seek them before anything else. One step higher was the need for safety—essentially the prospect for securing the basic needs. This could include social order, access to paid work, defense against foreign enemies. One step higher were social needs—sexual partners, friends, a feeling of community. Higher still was esteem—respect accorded by others. Finally, at the top, what Maslow called “self-actualization"—beauty, a desire to explore, a sense of discovery.
Other psychologists and social scientists have categorized things differently, but the concept of a hierarchy of needs has proven durable. The basic idea is simply common sense. If I'm drowning, the first thing I need is a breath of air. At that point I'm not wondering when I might be able to see Michelangelo's Pieta.
Maslow recognized that motivation operated at different levels of the hierarchy simultaneously. I take a particular job because I need a paycheck but also because that job conveys high status. President George H.W. Bush ordered the liberation of Kuwait in 1991 because his sense of justice was offended by Iraq’s seizure of its small neighbor, but also because the Iraqi conquest had unsettled world oil markets.
Decisions for war cross hierarchy levels not simply because war is a complicated business but because lots of people are involved. Jefferson Davis's support for a secession in 1861 had overlapping but different wellsprings than the support of Mississippi privates in the Confederate army. Planter Davis would be ruined economically if slavery were overthrown; politician Davis liked the idea of being president of a republic. The rank and file were insulted by the idea of a Yankee army on southern soil; besides, they faced prison if they resisted conscription.
Yet it's not impossible to place different wars at different levels of the hierarchy, more or less. The American war against Mexico in the 1840s was a land grab that James Polk hardly bothered to disguise. The British war against Argentina over the Falkland Islands in the 1980s was, for prime minister Margaret Thatcher, a matter of honor.
Many people interpret the Maslow pyramid as placing worthier motives above baser. This might have been why guys used to claim they subscribed to Playboy magazine for the articles. And why Winston Churchill asserted that the war against Hitler was in defense of European democracy rather than British imperialism.
In this interpretation, a war for principle is more justifiable than a war for material gain.
But is it? Arguably the reverse is true. China’s Xi Jinping lays claim to Taiwan because that island, he says, is historically and intrinsically part of China. Russia's Vladimir Putin justifies his war for Ukraine in comparable terms: that Ukraine and Russia are inseparable. There's no particular reason to doubt the sincerity of either of these claims. To be sure, Xi doesn't want Taiwan to be under the influence of a rival great power, the United States. And Putin doesn't want the anti-Russian NATO alliance to come any closer. But the driving force in each case appears to be the stated principle.
Abraham Lincoln waged war against the Confederacy in the name of the Constitution. Here again other motives were in play. Lincoln believed a powerful country abutting the United States would be a threat. That threat might result in war. To preempt such a possible war he waged an actual war. Lincoln’s logic left something to be desired, if the war threat was his prime concern. But it wasn't. Lincoln believed the Union was constitutionally indissoluble, and so he must fight to prevent it being physically dissolved.
It's a minority position to suggest Lincoln got it wrong. At least it's a minority position in the North. And it's harder to maintain from the fact that the side effect—the termination of slavery—was acknowledged fairly quickly even by most southerners to have been a blessing.
Lincoln recognized the weakness of his case. While denying the constitutional right of secession, he didn't deny the natural right of revolution to create a new government. In other words, the eleven southern states had a right to create a new country, but only if they won their fight against the North. Lincoln was willing that 600,000 people should die to maintain this distinction between a constitutional right and a natural right. The distinction was wholly lost on southerners, and even many northerners had to strain to follow Lincoln's reasoning.
Consider the current war between Israel and Hamas. On both sides principle—idealism—is the prime mover. Security is certainly part of the equation for Israel, which after the Holocaust became a refuge for the Jews of the world. But the prayer of centuries of seders—”Next year in Jerusalem”—was equally an expression of devotion and identity among the Jewish diaspora. Hamas is fighting for its own principle, one that similarly transcends the “from the river to the sea” slogan. The Palestinians are a people, and a people should have a country, and it should be the country they occupied before interlopers took it away. The test of attachment to any principle is the enormity of the crimes people will commit in its name. October 7 revealed how principled Hamas is.
Many wars would be easier to avoid or end if they were more materialistic—that is, lower down the Maslow ladder. Material demands are compromisable in a way principles are not. In no foreseeable future are the Palestinians going to be rid of Israel; better to accept part of their old homeland than persist with none. Ukraine is very unlikely to win back its pre-2014 borders; better for the Ukrainians to decide what they can live without. A Chinese takeover of Taiwan will be nothing like the absorption of Hong Kong; much of what makes Taiwan valuable will be destroyed in the process. Better to settle for a version of the current modus vivendi.
Principles will be lost in the process. Good riddance.
Thanks for pointing out this error. Now fixed.
I’m sure it’s a typo in the fifth paragraph that references the war with Mexico in the “1860s”