People give some wholesome sounding justifications for starting a war.
“It’s for freedom.” “It’s for democracy.” “It is for our national interest.” “It is to protect the weak and defenseless.”
There might be some truth to all of those. But one reason for starting a war that is never mentioned is that every generation of men needs one. A warlike people needs a conflict every quarter century or so that Junior gets to prove his mettle to his father. And to himself.
And no people were more warlike than the English nobility. In the 9th Century – give or take – they began as mounted knights who were given land and titles in exchange for military service.
Their job, their identity, and their passion was to fight – generation after generation.
As “The Four Feathers” begins in 1885, English nobles have been proudly fighting wars together for a thousand years.
The lead character – Harry Faversham – is a bookish 14-year-old. He sits quietly and uncomfortably as his father and his aristocratic friends tell gruesome battle stories from Crimea.
Poor Harry walks into the next room and looks up at the paintings of his ancestors. They are all war paintings. Every one of his ancestors who matters was a British officer. The solemn martial responsibility overwhelms him.
Fast forward 10 years. Harry and his three aristocratic pals are getting their chance to fight. Great Britain is attacking Sudan and they are being shipped off to war with much fanfare.
Harry suddenly resigns his commission and stays home. No one understands or respects his decision. His buddies dismiss him as a coward. His fiancée gives him a solemn speech about duty and then leaves him.
After a while, Harry concludes that being a safe coward is more miserable than being massacred in Sudan. So he travels there alone, disguises himself as a mute Arab, and works to aid his old friends. It is an improbable mission of redemption. “The Four Feathers” is a rousing adventure story shot in glorious early Technicolor.
Director Zoltan Korda has a nuanced view of colonial conflict.
He shows that there was an absurd amount of suffering just to conquer Sudan. And no one in the movie bothers to give a reason why it is preferable or even profitable to possess Sudan.
Harry’s best friend John Dorrance is permanently blinded by the desert sun. Driven by insane pride and sense of duty, John manages to hide his handicap and direct a battle poorly without seeing the enemy.
After all of that madness, though, John returns home a much more self-assured man than when he left. He confidently embarks on the next stage of his life: learning to live as a blind country gentleman.
And, as odd as it seems to us, Harry is happier risking his life in Africa than he ever was safe in England.
The sacrifices that the characters make for a little dignity and confidence seem ridiculous to me. Then again, I’ve never had the guts to try it so maybe there’s more to being a soldier than I want to admit.