History tends to deal harshly with those who judge men and events before the full weight of evidence is in. The scales are tipped in ways that students of current history cannot always anticipate. Conscious of this, many of our most distinguished Western historians hesitate to write about twentiethcentury history, let alone contemporary events. Great American statesmen share this sense of awe and uncertainty about measuring the fragments of history which they may have had a part in shaping. It was Lincoln who observed that his only choice was to do the best he could and pray that in the end history would judge him kindly. No one can be sure that noble intentions will lead to desirable ends, for the scroll of history unfolds according to its own mysterious inner logic.

With respect to the morality and legitimacy of power a schematic view which is held by many, including probably most Jews, was recently expressed again by the late and learned David Baumgardt (Living Legacy—Essays in Honor of Hugo Hahn, N.Y. 1963, pp. 20-23). The view, summarily put, amounts to this: there is, on one hand, the attitude of a few radical Christians—to limit ourselves to the Western world—who condemn power as in itself evil and sinful; they take New Testament statements like “turn the cheek” and “do not judge” literally. But they are neurotic and, what is worse, unrealistic, for they open gates to the victory of injustice and brutality.

St. Augustine wrote the City of God at a time of trouble for the Roman Empire. Pope John XXIII issued his Pacem in Terris “ to all men of good will“ in an age of universal conflict. While Augustine's philosophy of history includes a conception of an ideal Christian commonwealth, the predominant theme in his great book is pessimism regarding the City of Man. The strongest motif in the late Pope's encyclical, on the other hand, is optimism concerning the power of responsible men to shape the future in a favorable way.