Clever metaphors die hard. Their tenacity of life approaches that of the hardiest micro-organisms. Living relics litter our language, their raisons d'être forever past, ignored if not forgotten, and their present fascination seldom impaired by the confusions they may create. In politics and religion, where name-calling is at a peak, each generation labels its mugwumps, levellers, quislings, whigs, and tories, its anabaptists, Calvinists, fundamentalists, papists, and puritans. Even a phrase common to Roman history, ‘barbarian assault’, has been widely employed as a slapdash argument for dealing firmly with the lower classes. When once a catchy phrase, a memorable name, or a colourful concept enters the common language, it never fails to make history. In so doing it often takes on a history of its own.

Such is the case of the military metaphor. Through constant repetition in historical and philosophical exposition of every kind, from pulpit, platform, and printed page, the idea of science and religion at ‘war’ has become an integral part of Western intellectual culture. Like other clever metaphors, this one shows few signs of dying out.