I do love me some W.H. Auden

I've been enjoying the opportunity to explore more of Auden's poetry.  Today: "September 1, 1939," "In Memory of Sigmund Freud," and "In Memory of W.B. Yeats."  These are three very specific, very personal poems.  While I enjoyed them all, the first really hit home.  It is Auden's reaction to the news that Germany has invaded Poland.  Auden chooses not to attack Hitler and the Nazis specifically.  Instead he addresses the false and common belief that the masses must follow authority - that the Fuhrer, or the President, or the Prime Minister knows best and will protect us.  Auden acknowledges that each individual ultimately only acts in his or her own best interest and warns that without love we will perish (an idea that he later recanted, cutting the poem from future printings).  Of course we won't die, we'll just live a bit more miserably than we would without love.  But, as I posted on our class discussion board, without respect, we will die.  If I cannot respect those with whom I disagree, how can I expect them to respect me?  And more importantly, how can we then coexist peacefully?  I wonder where wars come from, huh?