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  • Review of David Schalk’s War and the Ivory Tower

    “History,” the French philosopher Julien Benda once remarked, “is made from shreds of justice that the intellectual has torn from the politician.” This contention may overestimate the power of the former and underestimate the power of the latter. But it does point to a tension between intellectuals and government officials that has existed at crucial historical junctures–for example, in late nineteenth century France (where the term “intellectual was first coined in connection with the Dreyfus affair) and in the late twentieth century Soviet Union (where intellectuals provided the major source of dissent).

    This tension is well-illustrated by David Schalk’s excellent study, War and the Ivory Tower, an examination of intellectual engagement during France’s war in Algeria (1954 to 1962) and America’s war in Vietnam (1964 to 1975). Originally published in 1991 and reissued in 2005, this book has new prefaces by Benjamin Stora (a French historian, born in Algeria) and George Herring (a U.S. diplomatic historian), as well as a new introduction by Schalk (a specialist on European intellectual history).

    Schalk defines intellectuals by what he calls “their more abstract and distantiated social role which sharply contrasts with almost all others in a modern society. Their function involves a certain kind of creativity, usually through the written word and dealing with ideas in some fashion, often applying ideas in an ethical way that may question the legitimacy of the established authorities.” Thus, “a significant percentage of the professoriate and some journalists” can be classified as intellectuals, as can “a substantial portion of the artistic community . . . who theorize in print about their creativity.” In his view, “there was, and perhaps remains, a symbiotic relationship between the intellectual and engagement,” a French term meaning “critical dissent.”

    Schalk argues convincingly that there were remarkable similarities between the Algerian and Vietnam wars. These include: the use of torture; the looming precedent of the Nuremberg trials; anti-colonial revolt; the undermining of democracy; the murky style of diplomacy; the racist views of Western troops; the unjustified optimism and arrogance of military and political leaders; the forced relocation of civilian populations; and the transformation of the two nations’ countrysides into vast “free fire zones,” in which the military sought to destroy everything that moved.

    There were also important differences, he notes, among them the relative absence of Marxism within Algeria’s National Liberation Front (FLN); the large French settler population in Algeria; and the presence in France of some 300,000 Algerian workers, whose monthly remittances to the FLN and its government in exile paid a significant portion of the costs of the Algerian independence struggle.

    Albert Camus has often been cited as an example of French intellectual resistance to the Algerian war. But, as Schalk reveals, Camus was conflicted about the struggle in Algeria, and at times fell silent about it. “A far more relevant model,” Schalk notes, is provided by the French Catholic intelligentsia, especially the left-leaning intellectuals gathered around the monthly Esprit. From 1954 and 1962, that journal published 211 articles on the Algerian war, 42 of them by its co-director (and later director) Jean-Marie Domenach. The responsibility of intellectuals, argued Domenach, was to show that “between the frivolous word and the recourse to arms there exists a path”–the path, he eventually concluded, of nonviolent resistance and peaceful protest. The French Left, he believed, had to be awakened from its paralyzing sense of impotence so that it would no longer “cultivate a despair that is the secret weapon of tyranny.”

    As Schalk notes, Esprit’s prominence in resistance to the war did not mean that the French Catholic intelligentsia solidly opposed French policy. Indeed, some conservative Catholic intellectuals were keen supporters of France’s war in Algeria. Denouncing conscientious objectors, Monseigneur Jean Rodhain declared in 1960, contemptuously, that if they would not fight for France, they should “go and live in another country.”

    Jean-Paul Sartre and writers connected with his journal, Les Temps modernes, also played key roles in the resistance to the Algerian war. Once the full significance of that conflict became apparent to Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, and their associates, they dealt with it extensively in that journal. Schalk remarks that, as “the guiding spirit” behind Les Temps modernes, “Sartre channeled much of his amazing energy and intellectual power into the struggle to end the war.” His articles dealt “unsparingly with issues of collective guilt and thus the historical parallel with the Nazi years, torture, war crimes, and the danger of fascism.” He also published a report on the first clandestine congress of the Young Resistance, a group of draft resisters, with the mission of helping deserters and those who refused induction to leave France and locate employment elsewhere.

    In the fall of 1960, Sartre and others created a sensation by circulating what became known as the Manifesto of the 121, the “Declaration on the Right of Insubordination in the Algerian War.” Banned by the government and consequently unpublished (e.g. the pages of Les Temps modernes where it was to appear remained conspicuously blank), it sharply denounced the Algerian war, noting that “French militarism . . . has managed to restore torture and to make it once again practically an institution in Europe.” The signers declared that they “respect and deem justified the refusal to take up arms against the Algerian people,” as well as the “conduct of Frenchmen who . . . supply aid and protection to Algerians who are oppressed in the name of the French people.” They concluded that “the cause of the Algerian people, who are contributing in a decisive manner to destroying the colonial system, is the cause of all free men.”

    The most dramatic and controversial act of resistance by French intellectuals was organized by Francis Jeansen, a philosopher and former protégé of Sartre’s. In a powerful statement published in Esprit in May 1957, he pointed to French war crimes in Algeria, observing that “this politique is ours, these horrors are imputable to us.” In Jeansen’s view, the terrible responsibility borne by the French for their disgraceful behavior in Algeria necessitated extraordinary action. Consequently, he and his students began transporting suitcases filled with money from Algerian workers in France across the border to Swiss banks. From there the money was funneled toward the purchase of weapons for the Algerian independence struggle. Although some of Jeansen’s associates were arrested and tried, he was never caught by the French secret police, despite the fact that he surfaced briefly in Paris for a clandestine press conference.

    These activities, led by prominent French intellectuals, fed into accelerating displays of public resistance. A silent protest against the war took place in Paris in June 1957. Banned by the government, it nevertheless drew some 500 to 600 people, including Sartre and Francois Mauriac; 49 of them were arrested for this “crime.” In December 1961, 50,000 people turned out for a march in Paris to protest OAS terrorism. This march also was banned by the government and was broken up by police, with more than a hundred participants hospitalized as a result of police brutality. In February 1962, when the authorities finally granted legal authorization for a peace demonstration, a crowd of half a million surged through Paris.

    As this account suggests, resistance to the war occurred against the backdrop of significant verbal and physical assault. Addressing French veterans’ groups, Robert LaCoste, France’s Resident Minister in Algeria, accused “the exhibitionists of the heart and the intellect who have mounted the campaign against torture” of being “responsible for the resurgence of terrorism. . . . I present them to you for your scorn.” Esprit’s increasingly critical stand led to arrests, fines, and seizures of issues of the journal by the government. On two occasions, the OAS bombed the headquarters of Esprit with plastic explosives. Sartre’s apartment and the offices of Les Temps modernes were also bombed with plastic explosives, and pro-war militants marched through the streets of Paris calling for his assassination.

    Despite the obstacles erected by the government and colonialist fanatics, however, by the end of the war French intellectuals were in a state of revolt, with the vast majority of them denouncing France’s role in Algeria.

    Similarly, notes Schalk, among American intellectuals–and particularly those affiliated with elite educational institutions and those who constituted the country’s most famous novelists, essayists, artists, and poets–opposition to the U.S. war effort in Vietnam became “overwhelming.” In October 1969, for example, the Harvard faculty voted 255 to 81 against U.S. military involvement in Vietnam, and 391 to 16 in support of the upcoming Moratorium Day against the war. An endless stream of antiwar petitions appeared in the New York Times and elsewhere, signed by faculty at top universities and by other intellectual luminaries.

    The most influential of these petitions–inspired by the Manifesto of the 121–was the “Call to Resist Illegitimate Authority,” which appeared in the October 12, 1967, issue of the New York Review of Books. Signed by Philip Berrigan, Noam Chomsky, Paul Goodman, Denise Levertov, Dwight Macdonald, Herbert Marcuse, Linus Pauling, Susan Sontag, and others, the “Call” argued that the kinds of actions taken by U.S. troops in Vietnam–the destruction of villages, the internment of civilian populations in concentration camps, and summary executions of civilians–were those that America and its World War II allies “declared to be crimes against humanity . . . and for which Germans were sentenced at Nuremberg.” Everyone “must choose the course of resistance dictated by his conscience and circumstances,” they argued, but resistance to military service in Vietnam is “courageous and justified.” Addressing “all men of good will,” they asked them to join “in this confrontation with immoral authority. . . . Now is the time to resist.”

    The New York Review, the nation’s leading intellectual journal, devoted enormous attention to the Vietnam War, publishing 262 articles on the subject between 1964 and 1975. The most famous of them, Schalk notes, was Noam Chomsky’s “The Responsibility of Intellectuals,” which appeared in February 1967. In numerous ways, it set the tone for the “Call to Resist Illegitimate Authority,” and represented the shift of American intellectuals from educational efforts to calls for extralegal action. “It is the responsibility of intellectuals to speak the truth and to expose lies,” Chomsky wrote. But he contrasted this obligation with the practices of establishment intellectuals, who lied and dissembled to serve power. The moral was clear: in the circumstances of the Vietnam War, the only appropriate response was resistance.

    In later writings, Chomsky admitted that he felt “uncomfortable about proposing draft refusal publicly, since it is a rather cheap proposal from someone my age.” But he did advocate tax resistance, “both because it symbolizes a refusal to make a voluntary contribution to the war machine and also because it indicates a willingness . . . to take illegal measures to oppose an indecent government.” In addition, Chomsky participated in antiwar demonstrations and was arrested during the October 1967 march on the Pentagon. Like almost all other American and French intellectuals, though, Chomsky consistently rejected violent protest. He wrote: “Continued mass actions, patient explanation, principled resistance can be boring, depressing. But those who program the B-52 attacks and the `pacification’ exercises are not bored, and as long as they continue in their work, so must we.”

    Other key U.S. intellectuals also became engagé, including Hans Morgenthau, Robert Lowell, Elizabeth Hardwick, Joseph Heller, Mary McCarthy, Norman Mailer, Muriel Rukeyser, Eric Bentley, Ann Sexton, William Styron, Anais Nin, Henry Steele Commager, and Robert Penn Warren. Draft counseling, teach-ins against the war, and antiwar commencement ceremonies preoccupied some of America’s most illustrious minds. “For many intellectuals,” observes Schalk, “the Vietnam episode lay in a special category. It stood outside the normal realm of debate.” As Martin Bernal put it, in yet another article in the New York Review, the Vietnam War could be categorized with “Nazi concentration camps.” Reflecting their bitterness, Susan Sontag wrote in 1967: “America has become a criminal, sinister country–swollen with priggishness, numbed by affluence, bemused by the monstrous conceit that she has the mandate to dispose of the destiny of the world, of life itself, in terms of her own interests and jargon.”

    The powerful, of course, were enraged by the engagement of the intellectuals. Officials in the Johnson and Nixon administrations denounced them, launched investigations of them, placed them on “enemies” lists, attempted to disrupt their activities, and prosecuted them. In 1968, Benjamin Spock, William Sloane Coffin Jr., Mitchell Goodman, Marcus Raskin, and Michael Ferber were indicted for counseling, aiding, and abetting draft registrants to “fail, refuse, and evade” service in the U.S. armed forces; among the “overt acts” cited in the indictment was the “Call to Resist Illegitimate Authority.” Father Daniel Berrigan, after indictment for the destruction of draft records, declared himself a “fugitive from injustice” and went underground, from which he somehow granted interviews and made public appearances. Other prominent intellectual critics of the war, such as Staughton Lynd, had their academic employment challenged or terminated.

    Schalk places this chronicle of escalating engagement in France and the United States within three stages: a pedagogical stage, in which intellectuals critiqued official justifications for their country’s wars; a moral stage, in which they challenged the ethical basis of their country’s behavior; and a counter-legal stage, in which they promoted civil disobedience. This model proposed by Schalk nicely fits the trend of resistance in both countries.

    Indeed, Schalk has written a masterly work, which has stood up extraordinarily well in the years from its initial publication to this new edition, which appeared in late 2005. His careful style, thorough research, and judicious conclusions make this an excellent study of intellectual engagement. Its relevance goes beyond the crises of conscience in France and the United States over their governments’ brutal wars in the Third World to the role of intellectuals in modern society.

    In this broader framework, Schalk speculates on whether intellectual engagement is a phenomenon solely of the past, and concludes that it probably is not. But “to elicit a profound moral reaction from its intellectual elites,” he maintains, “a government in power has to do something stupid and evil enough.” Furthermore, “the external historical situation . . . must not appear totally hopeless and impermeable to change.”

    George Herring, in his preface to the book, takes up this issue and applies it to American intellectuals and the current U.S. war in Iraq. “The insurgency that began in Iraq after the . . . spring 2003 U.S. invasion bears a marked resemblance to the wars in Algeria and Vietnam,” he observes. “The Abu Ghraib scandal calls forth memories of French torture in Algeria and the notorious tiger cages at Con Son in South Vietnam. Indeed, the sometimes-bewildered looks on the faces of American soldiers in Iraqi cities are reminiscent of the expressions of those who fought earlier wars in Algeria and Vietnam.” And, yet, he notes, intellectual dissent has been relatively muted. “Where is the outrage against government lies and blundering? Where is the call to resist illegitimate authority?”

    There are signs, though, that a storm has been gathering, and that the intellectuals, now restive, will once again lead the way in fearlessly exposing the lies and mendacity of the powerful, as they did so effectively during the Algerian and Vietnam wars. And if they do plunge once more into public debate and resistance, they will surely build upon the exemplary stance of their predecessors, chronicled so brilliantly in War and the Ivory Tower.

    Years ago, with his characteristic pessimism, Chomsky wondered gloomily what would happen to historical consciousness of the Vietnam War “as the custodians of history set to work.” But, as David Schalk shows us, a sensitive and forthright historian can illuminate the darkened terrain of the past and of the present.

    Lawrence S. Wittner, a Nuclear Age Peace Foundation Associate, is Professor of History at the State University of New York/Albany. His latest book is Toward Nuclear Abolition: A History of the World Nuclear Disarmament Movement, 1971 to the Present (Stanford University Press).

    Originally published by the History News Network.

  • Leader or Follower? Powell Chose the Latter

    Leader or Follower? Powell Chose the Latter

    Colin Powell is coming to Santa Barbara to give a talk on “Leadership: Taking Charge.” His presence in the community and his topic provide an opportunity to consider what it means to be a leader.

    In the military model, with which Mr. Powell is most familiar, leaders give orders and followers obey. It is a hierarchical structure in which one must be an obedient follower as well as an order giver or relayer of orders from above. In this model, leadership is based principally upon the authority of one’s role. Generals give orders to colonels; colonels to majors; and so on. In the hierarchical chain of command, the commander-in-chief is at the top of the ladder, and the young recruits at the bottom of the ladder. The private who efficiently follows orders will move up the ladder. Military leadership places a premium on obedience and loyalty: doing what one is told to do. Armies run on obedience to orders.

    In the US military, as with most militaries, soldiers are, however, also subject to the law. They are informed in military handbooks that they have a duty to refuse to obey illegal orders. Examples of such orders might be to kill prisoners of war, commit torture or to bomb civilian populations. What is a soldier to do when confronted with such illegal orders? Obey or disobey? Remain silent and carry out the order, or speak out and inform the world of the illegal orders?

    A tension is created between the hierarchical following of orders and the duty to break the chain of command when it comes to illegal orders. It is easier to build a career within the military by going along and not challenging orders from above. To speak out and challenge orders, on any grounds, runs the risk of ending one’s career within a hierarchical system. One cannot be both a “good soldier” who follows orders, regardless of their legality, and also one who does his duty to refuse illegal orders.

    Colin Powell has always been a good soldier. He impressed his superiors in the military and in the upper reaches of government sufficiently to become the head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and was then appointed Secretary of State by George W. Bush. He was also well regarded by the public as a man who was both reasonable and responsible. When Mr. Bush initially took his case for war against Iraq to the United Nations, the Security Council balked at giving Mr. Bush the authority to go to war against Iraq, and chose instead to “remain seized” of the matter. Despite the Bush administration’s claims that Iraq was engaged in programs developing weapons of mass destruction, the United Nations inspectors were not finding such weapons or related programs on the ground in Iraq.

    To Colin Powell, the US Secretary of State who was widely regarded by the general public as the most trustworthy member of Bush’s cabinet, fell the task of making the case for war against Iraq at the UN Security Council. On February 6, 2003, Powell went before the Security Council and presented the members with false and misleading evidence of Iraq’s weapons of mass destruction. Relying upon the clearly faulty intelligence about aluminum tubing for a uranium enrichment program, Powell told the Council, for example, “We have no indication that Saddam Hussein has ever abandoned his nuclear weapons program. On the contrary, we have more than a decade of proof that he remains determined to acquire nuclear weapons.”

    There are times when being a leader means doing what is right, regardless of the consequences. Powell could, perhaps, have stopped a needless and illegal war. He chose, instead, to use his goodwill as a messenger presenting the Bush administration’s case for war to the United Nations Security Council and, at the same time, to the American people. He chose obedience to authority and loyalty to his “chain of command” over respect for truth, human life and international law.

    In the end, Powell must carry a heavy weight on his shoulders, for he might well have prevented the invasion of Iraq by taking the bold and courageous step of resigning his office. He could have then told the truth to the American people, rather than making a false case for war, even if it meant simply reflecting the ambiguity and doubts of the intelligence on which he drew. Ironically, Powell’s assertions at the UN met with strong rebuttals by UN inspectors, but his prestige and the public’s confidence in him seemed to reassure the American people and the Congress.

    The American people should be highly skeptical of General Powell. He had a critical moment to be a leader and he chose instead to be a follower. Rather than leadership for peace, he joined in promoting misrepresentations that led the United States into a war that has now resulted in the deaths of over 2,000 American troops and tens of thousands of Iraqi civilians. Sadly, Mr. Powell has proven that he is not a man to look to for leadership, nor one to pontificate about it. He owes the country an apology, which would require self-reflection and courage, two other traits of a good leader.

    Mr. Powell is now free from the constraints of military hierarchy and enjoys the rights and responsibilities associated with being a US citizen. Even if he had been in some way convinced of the truthfulness of his statements about Iraq at the time they were made, he must by now surely have serious doubts about their veracity. With these doubts arises a solemn responsibility (and opportunity) to express them publicly, thereby breaking his silent assent to the continuing tragedy of the Iraq war and reasserting his claim to leadership.

     

    David Krieger is president of the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation (www.wagingpeace.org). He is the author of many studies of peace in the Nuclear Age, and has been a leader in the global effort to abolish nuclear weapons. This article was published in the Santa Barbara News-Press on February 12, 2006.

  • Iran, International Law, and Nuclear Disarmament

    Iran, International Law, and Nuclear Disarmament

    Iran has been accused of secretly pursuing a nuclear weapons program. Although Iranian leaders claim to be enriching uranium only for peaceful nuclear energy purposes, these claims have been treated with derision by the West. Despite the fact that most experts believe that Iran is still years away from developing a nuclear weapon, there are media reports suggesting that Israel and the US are making plans to attack Iran’s nuclear facilities, should Iran not give up its uranium enrichment program. Given this possible military scenario, and the recent vote by the Board of the International Atomic Energy Agency to report Iran to the United Nations Security Council, what is Iran likely to do?

    First, Iran will continue to assert its right under Article IV the Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) to pursue a peaceful nuclear energy program. Article IV refers to the “inalienable right” of states to nuclear energy. The parties to the treaty are promised assistance from more technologically advanced countries in pursuing this right. While this may be considered an untenable stipulation in the treaty, it is, nonetheless, the way the law stands. In accord with the treaty, in exchange for pursuing this right, Iran must agree to inspections of its nuclear facilities to assure that there has been no diversion of nuclear materials for making weapons. In fairness, if this aspect of the Non-Proliferation Treaty is to be altered, it must be done for all states, not singling out Iran for special punitive treatment. Currently, uranium enrichment plants are operating in China, France, Germany, India, Japan, Netherlands, Pakistan, Russia, United Kingdom and United States. Of these, Germany and Japan are non-nuclear weapons states that are parties to the Non-Proliferation Treaty, and thus have a similar relationship to the treaty as does Iran.

    Second, Iran will assert that under Article VI of the Non-Proliferation Treaty, the United States and the other nuclear weapons states have not fulfilled their obligations for “good faith” negotiations for nuclear disarmament. It will point to the 1996 International Court of Justice advisory opinion that states: “There exists an obligation to pursue in good faith and bring to a conclusion negotiations leading to nuclear disarmament in all its aspects under strict and effective international control.” And it will point out the blatant refusal by the nuclear weapons states to carry out their Article VI commitments, including the plans by the United States to develop the Reliable Replacement Warhead, a new type of nuclear warhead to extend the viability of the US nuclear arsenal.

    Third, Iran will question the unequal treatment that it is receiving as compared to another Middle Eastern country, Israel, which is thought to possess some 200 nuclear weapons. Iran will note that there is not only a double standard between nuclear “haves” and “have-nots,” but also a double standard between Israel and other countries in the Middle East. It will rightly point out that there have long been calls for a Middle East Nuclear Weapons-Free Zone, including at the 1995 Non-Proliferation Treaty Review and Extension Conference, which have been largely ignored by Israel and the Western countries.

    Article X of the Non-Proliferation Treaty allows for a party to withdraw after giving three months notice if it decides that “the supreme interests of its country” are being jeopardized by the treaty. With threats of an attack against Iran if it does not cease its uranium enrichment, and the example of Israel developing a nuclear arsenal outside the NPT, it would not be unreasonable for Iran’s leaders to conclude that Iranian interests were better served by withdrawing from the treaty. Should they reach this conclusion, they may also point to the precedent of the Bush administration’s withdrawal from the Anti-Ballistic Missile (ABM) Treaty in 2002 on grounds that US national interests were being jeopardized by that treaty.

    The Non-Proliferation Treaty is the most widely adhered to treaty in the area of arms control and disarmament. Only four countries are not parties to this treaty – India, Pakistan, Israel, and North Korea – and all have developed nuclear arsenals.

    To effectively preclude Iran from leaving the treaty and possibly developing a nuclear arsenal, and avoid risking the significant dangers involved in preventive military strikes, larger problems must be solved. First, the Non-Proliferation Treaty regime must be made universal, applicable to all states, bringing in the four states currently outside the treaty. Second, the nuclear weapons states, both within the treaty and those currently outside of it, must begin the good faith negotiations for nuclear disarmament required by the treaty. These negotiations must be aimed at a Nuclear Weapons Convention that provides for the phased and internationally verifiable elimination of all nuclear weapons from all national arsenals. Third, all enrichment of uranium and reprocessing of plutonium, fissile materials that can be used to make nuclear weapons, must be brought under strict and effective international control.

    If this sounds utopian, it is surely no more so than believing that the current set of double standards, those that allow some states to continue to possess nuclear weapons while seeking to prevent others from having them, will be maintainable indefinitely. It is also certainly no more utopian than believing that preventive war, such as that waged illegally against Iraq, is a reasonable answer to every suspicion of nuclear weapons proliferation.

    The only safe number of nuclear weapons in the world is zero. The only way to reach this number is for the nuclear weapons states to become serious about the “unequivocal undertaking” to eliminate their nuclear arsenals that they made at the 2000 Non-Proliferation Treaty Review Conference. Until they do so, the prospects are high of countries like Iran following North Korea’s example of withdrawing from the Non-Proliferation Treaty and pursuing nuclear weapons programs.

     

    David Krieger is president of the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation (www.wagingpeace.org). He is the author of many studies of peace in the Nuclear Age, including Nuclear Weapons and the World Court.

  • Bonhoeffer’s Message: No Compromise with Evil

    Seekers of peace and social justice should take note of today’s 100th birthday celebration of the life of German theologian and Nazi resister Dietrich Bonhoeffer.

    As much as anyone – and as early as anyone – Bonhoeffer spoke out against the wickedness of Adolf Hitler’s regime and took some of the most significant actions to thwart it. It was Bonhoeffer and a small circle of Lutheran ministers who first condemned the virulent anti-Semitism and reawakened militarism in Germany. It was Bonhoeffer who most loudly denounced his country’s suicidal summons for war. It was Bonhoeffer who attacked the timidity of German churches when they shrank away from the most severe moral crisis in a thousand years.

    His life deserves wider recognition.

    It was only two days into Hitler’s reign that Bonhoeffer delivered a radio address critical of the Nazi party. He warned Germans for buying into a dangerous cult that would lead to the eradication of their freedoms. He labeled the strutting, newly installed chancellor a Verfuhrer – “misleader.”

    Disturbed at the way Jews were being hauled off to the ghettos, Bonhoeffer called upon fellow ministers to speak up. The churches responded with sermons and empty platitudes. Rather than standing alongside the disowned and dispossessed, the churches rolled over. He admonished his brethren that they had a biblical command to “see the great events of the world from the perspective of the outcasts, the suspects, the maltreated, the powerless, the oppressed, the reviled – in short, from the perspective of those who suffer.”

    Then came Kristallnacht – “night of the broken glass.”

    After thousands of Jewish homes, churches and synagogues were burned and ransacked by Nazi thugs, the response of most German citizens was a deafening silence. Bonhoeffer was livid. “If the synagogues are set on fire today,” he warned, “it will be the churches that will be burned tomorrow.”

    Dejected and confused, he sailed to the United States for a yearlong teaching sabbatical in June 1939. The ostensible reason was to let the political storms in Europe die down and then return the following year. The more compelling reason was that by this time – only weeks before the Nazi invasion of Poland – Bonhoeffer was a marked man. His friends in America had repeatedly warned him that to remain in Germany was folly. Either he would be drafted or jailed or shot. Come again to America and stay for a while, they said. War is imminent in Europe. It’s safe over here.

    Then, only two weeks later, Bonhoeffer dramatically changed course. “I have made a terrible mistake in coming to America,” he confessed to his host, Reinhold Niebuhr. “I must live through this difficult period of our history with the people of Germany… (We) face the terrible alternative of either willing the defeat of our nation in order that civilization may survive, or willing the victory of our nation and thereby destroying civilization. I know which of these alternatives I must choose – but I cannot make that choice in security… . I must go back.”

    His boat departed for Europe on July 8, 1939.

    Three weeks later the war began.

    Between 1940 and 1943 Bonhoeffer was active in the movement to topple Hitler, by coup if possible or assassination if necessary. Defending his actions to his sister-in-law, Emmi Bonhoeffer, he explained, “If I see a madman driving a car into a group of innocent bystanders, then I can’t simply wait for the catastrophe and then comfort the wounded and bury the dead. I must try to wrestle the steering wheel out of the hands of the driver.”

    These efforts met with complete failure.

    In April 1943, Bonhoeffer was arrested and sent to prison.

    After the failed attempt to kill Hitler on July 20, 1944, he was taken to Buchenwald and then to the Bavarian prison at Flossenburg. A British inmate, Captain Payne Best, recalled that Bonhoeffer “always seemed to diffuse an atmosphere of happiness, of joy in every small event of life, and deep gratitude for the mere fact that he was alive.”

    On the morning of April 9, 1945, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and several of his fellow conspirators were executed. He had just turned 39.

    Steve Argo teaches history at Baraboo High School and is a member of the First Congregational United Church of Christ in Baraboo.

    Originally published on Saturday, February 4, 2006 by the Madison Capital Times.

  • A High-Stakes Nuclear Gamble

    Imagine a world with 20 or more nuclear weapons states. This was President Kennedy’s dark vision in 1963. Were it to come to pass, the risk that terrorists could buy or steal nuclear bombs would rise significantly. Yet President Bush’s recent proposal to provide nuclear energy assistance to India is a dangerous gamble that makes such an outcome more likely.

    It could unravel the 1970 Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty, which, though imperfect, has helped limit the number of countries able to make nuclear weapons. Congress should reject the proposal and require renegotiation to limit the Indian nuclear weapons program.

    India’s nuclear history reveals why the proposed deal would weaken U.S. national security.

    In 1974, India exploded a secret nuclear device using plutonium from a Canadian-supplied reactor containing U.S. heavy water. Both the reactor and the heavy water were sold to India under agreements with a “peaceful use” requirement, which India violated.

    In 1978, Congress enacted the Nuclear Nonproliferation Act. That required countries such as India who were not among the five nations recognized as nuclear weapons states under the nonproliferation treaty, and that wanted American nuclear technology for peaceful purposes, to submit to “safeguards,” meaning inspections of all their nuclear facilities by the International Atomic Energy Agency. India refused, and the United States ended all nuclear assistance to the country from that day forward.

    Now, Bush has put forward a proposal that caves in utterly to India. It would not only allow India to keep its bombs, it would permit it to use all its own nuclear material for bomb making, while using nuclear fuel the United States would supply for its civilian power program. If India receives this favor, can Israel and Pakistan be far behind?

    Such a radical proposal should be viewed within the context of the current negotiations with Iran and North Korea, two countries that signed the nonproliferation treaty but have been caught violating safeguards. Failure to stop them from producing nuclear weapons would be a serious blow to global stability.

    Iran and North Korea are being offered reactors and guaranteed nuclear fuel supplies for peaceful uses in return for a permanent shutdown of facilities for enriching uranium or separating plutonium, both of which have peaceful applications but enable the manufacture of nuclear weapons. Whether either will ultimately accept is unclear.

    So let’s compare the deals offered India and Iran:

    India: Can build as many nuclear weapons as it wishes with its own nuclear supplies. Iran: Cannot build any nuclear weapons with its own or anyone else’s supplies.

    India: Can build and operate un-safeguarded facilities for producing and stockpiling unlimited amounts of fissile material for its weapons program. Iran: Cannot build enrichment or plutonium separation facilities, even if safeguarded and even though the nonproliferation treaty does not prohibit such activities.

    India: Is asked to maintain a voluntary moratorium on nuclear testing. Iran: Cannot make or explode nuclear devices under any circumstances.

    India: Must divide its nuclear facilities into “civilian” and “military,” with voluntary IAEA safeguards applying only to its civilian program. Iran: Must have the most stringent safeguards on all its nuclear facilities.

    This double standard favoring India is an example of America’s willingness to wash away the nuclear sins of its “friends” to achieve other foreign policy goals. Pakistan is another example; it has received F-16s, which can deliver its nuclear weapons, despite having violated U.S. nonproliferation laws and spread nuclear weapons technology to Iran, Libya and North Korea via the Abdul Qadeer Khan network.

    What is the message we’re sending? How will these double standards persuade the Iranians to give up their right to produce advanced nuclear materials? How could signatories of the nonproliferation treaty not conclude that it has been seriously devalued when India — which refused to sign it in the first place, broke its contracts with the United States and Canada and developed nuclear weapons — is to be given virtually unconditional nuclear assistance?

    Some nations may decide that if they withdraw from the treaty, build nuclear weapons and wait long enough while avoiding antagonizing the United States, they will eventually get all the nuclear help they want.

    Why then is the Bush administration risking undermining the treaty?

    It is no secret that it views China as a growing strategic rival and sees India as a counterweight. It is therefore interested in helping India build up its economic and military capability. If the deal goes through, Pentagon officials reportedly expect India to purchase as much as $5 billion in U.S. conventional military equipment, some of which would be helpful in monitoring Chinese military movements and submarines.

    During the 2004 presidential race, both Bush and Sen. John Kerry stated that the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction was the most serious threat to U.S. national security. But giving nuclear assistance to India undercuts the rationale for telling other nations not to supply suspected proliferators such as Iran.

    Moreover, both China and Pakistan will be motivated to accelerate their own weapons programs and their mutual nuclear cooperation. Pakistani officials will not be more cooperative in the stalled investigation of Khan’s activities. Adding the risk to the nonproliferation treaty to this poisonous mix makes the president’s proposal a marked retreat from half a century of American leadership in preventing the spread of nuclear weapons.

    LEONARD WEISS was the chief architect of the Nuclear Nonproliferation Act of 1978.

    Originally published by the Los Angeles Times.

  • An Alternative to Iraq Delusions

    The American public needs to force its leaders to act before the Iraq war becomes even more a replica of the Vietnam tragedy.

    When United States Congressman John Murtha made his passionate speech on 17 November calling for the withdrawal of US forces from Iraq within six months, it seemed for an instant as though the public mood had swung so strongly against the Iraq policies of the Bush administration that to hope for a change of course wasn’t unrealistic.

    A month on, any such hopeful prospect of addressing the realities of Iraqi failure has now vanished beneath a presidential sky beclouded by tired reiterations of an utterly unconvincing “plan for victory”. Indeed the rededication to “complete victory” recalls the May 2003 delusion of “mission accomplished” proclaimed on a banner draped in the background while Bush delivered his notoriously premature speech of celebration on the deck of the USS Lincoln.

    Murtha’s ideas were the reflections of a foreign-policy hawk that had the integrity and prudence to cut American losses in Iraq, and thereby diminish the prospects of a deeper tragedy. The timetable of his basic proposal could be faulted, but not the principle. I think a year makes more sense, to give time to the main Iraqi political forces to take account of the US departure and strike a deal based on compromise and reconciliation. As long as American forces remain, the imbalances between the main groupings in Iraq — especially the privileged positions of the Kurds and Shi’a — virtually guarantee a prolonging, and even an escalation, of the violent civil strife.

    A time of radical uncertainty

    Present indicators of violence suggest a rising curve of death and devastation, not, as the White House and Pentagon constantly claim, an increase in domestic security. The more reliable polls also suggest that average Iraqis are desperate above all for security in their daily lives, and feel overwhelmingly that their situation would improve if American forces were to leave the country.

    Such an outlook makes sense. Without the protection of an occupying army the Kurds and Shi’a would likely succumb to the insurgency, but if the foreign military presence were to be gradually removed, the incentives for those now benefiting from the occupation to strike a political/economic bargain would rise dramatically. As it would for the Sunni as well, if their alternatives were a fair share of authority and a secular governing process versus a civil war that might result in either a stalemate or an Iranian intervention, and possibly in a combination of the two.

    American policy prospects are also enhanced by an unconditional military departure. It would be widely regarded in Europe and the Middle East as a constructive, if belated, move that gave both peace and diplomacy a chance, and clearly renounced imperial goals relating to oil and bases, which are widely believed overseas to be the main rationale for “staying the course”.

    If Iraqi political tendencies can deliver a sustainable compromise, it would save lives, money, and reputations. If the Iraqi domestic situation should further degenerate as US forces withdraw — which cannot be ruled out — it is likely to produce a return to secular, authoritarian rule under Sunni leadership (most likely without the Tikrit entourage of Saddam Hussein), which would likely keep Iraq unified and stable, though certainly not democratic. This outcome can be anticipated if negotiation and compromise fail, as there is little reason to believe that either the Kurds or Shi’a can prevail against an insurgency that draws on the superior experience and weaponry of the Ba’ath-led military forces of the Saddam era.

    There is no way to avoid the radical uncertainty of the situation. It was after all Donald Rumsfeld (characteristically assimilating Iraq into a wider frame of reference and thus failing to register the particularity of its conflict) who acknowledged in October 2003 that the US government “(lacks) metrics to know if we are winning or losing the global war on terror”. Not surprisingly, such a revealing acknowledgement was made in a secret internal Pentagon memo, and conflicted rather sharply with Rumsfeld’s public posturing portraying a rosy picture in Iraq after the invasion marred only by the nuisance of mopping up what he once called “the dead-enders”. What remains true and crucial to admit on all sides is that offering recommendations and speculating about Iraq’s future is afflicted by this condition of radical uncertainty: we simply do not know what will happen in the future in Iraq, and can only make reasonable conjectures based on the circumstances understood as objectively as possible.

    It is here where the Bush administration is again failing the American and Iraqi people – and in a sense, itself. Leaving aside the pre-invasion manipulation of evidence in the mobilisation of support for the war, what seems now inexcusable is to falsify the current situation on the ground. To pretend that the occupation is succeeding, that the majority of the public in Iraq is satisfied with the rate of progress in achieving stability and reconstruction, and that democracy is taking hold in the country is to become enmeshed in a net of delusion that rigidifies policy, and precludes adjustments, except those made below the radar of media awareness.

    For instance, a gradual transfer of security roles to Iraqi military and police forces without an appreciation of the virtual certainty that these forces will lack the will and capabilities to deal effectively with a resistance movement that a major US military presence and engagement could not defeat. Even worse would be efforts to reduce American combat fatalities by relying more and more on airpower, which in urban settings is a blunt and illegal instrument that is sure to kill mainly civilians and would further turn Iraqi public opinion against the US presence.

    We know that Bush/Cheney seem incapable of admitting errors and changing course. Bush seems to be proceeding apolitically, buoyed by his apparent underlying belief that his victory plan for Iraq is divinely ordained. We also know that the Pentagon has been planting disinformation in the Iraqi press by paying Iraqi journalists and newspapers to print US propaganda (we in the United States can only wonder whether we are not being fed similar falsehoods manipulations at home, presumably by more sophisticated techniques.)

    The echo of Vietnam

    In such a public atmosphere of distrust — what was called “a credibility gap” during the last stages of the Vietnam war — wildly contradictory views get a hearing. For instance, Nixon’s Secretary of Defence, Melvin R Laird believed that the United States lost the Vietnam war only because it did not appreciate the success of its tactics of Vietnamization and counterinsurgency, and risks repeating the same mistake in Iraq. Such a reconstruction of historical memory amounts to resurrection of the credibility gap, a retelling of the story of Vietnam, where victory was always a horizon away, and required only perseverance and added troop strength (see “Iraq: Learning the Lessons of Vietnam”, Foreign Affairs, November-December 2005).

    Dangling the prospect of victory before the American public after the Tet offensive of January-February 1968 prolonged the Vietnam war for as many as seven blood-soaked years after most US policymakers privately understood that the war was lost. We should act now in order to avoid repeating in Iraq the Vietnam-era mistake of waiting year after year for a leadership willing to acknowledge defeat.

    There is no assured path toward peace and stability for Iraq. But there is accumulating evidence that the occupation is not succeeding in producing a viable Iraqi state, and is now resting its prospects for a democratic Iraq on a highly regressive constitution that among other things sets things back for women far below what it was during Saddam’s brutal rule. It is also clear that the daily incidents of violence are adding to casualty totals in an environment where a favorable political outcome under American occupying auspices is even less plausible than it was a year or so ago. Whatever else, under these overall circumstances it is obscene to continue the killing and dying.

    Richard Falk, chair of the board of the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation, is the author of Religion and Humane Global Governance (Palgrave), The Great Terror War (Olive Branch), and most recently, The Declining World Order (Routledge). Since 2002 he has been Distinguished Visiting Professor of Global Studies at UC Santa Barbara.

  • Supplemental Study Guide: Hold Hope, Wage Peace

    The supplemental study guide for the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation’s book Hold Hope, Wage Peace is available as a PDF download at this link.

  • Mohamed ElBaradei – Nobel Lecture

    Your Majesties, Your Royal Highness, Honourable Members of the Norwegian Nobel Committee, Excellencies, Ladies and Gentlemen.

    The International Atomic Energy Agency and I are humbled, proud, delighted and above all strengthened in our resolve by this most worthy of honours.

    My sister-in-law works for a group that supports orphanages in Cairo. She and her colleagues take care of children left behind by circumstances beyond their control. They feed these children, clothe them and teach them to read.

    At the International Atomic Energy Agency, my colleagues and I work to keep nuclear materials out of the reach of extremist groups. We inspect nuclear facilities all over the world, to be sure that peaceful nuclear activities are not being used as a cloak for weapons programmes.

    My sister-in-law and I are working towards the same goal, through different paths: the security of the human family.

    But why has this security so far eluded us?

    I believe it is because our security strategies have not yet caught up with the risks we are facing. The globalization that has swept away the barriers to the movement of goods, ideas and people has also swept with it barriers that confined and localized security threats.

    A recent United Nations High-Level Panel identified five categories of threats that we face:

    1. Poverty, Infectious Disease, and Environmental Degradation;
    2. Armed Conflict – both within and among states;
    3. Organized Crime;
    4. Terrorism; and
    5. Weapons of Mass Destruction.

    These are all ‘threats without borders’ – where traditional notions of national security have become obsolete. We cannot respond to these threats by building more walls, developing bigger weapons, or dispatching more troops. Quite to the contrary. By their very nature, these security threats require primarily multinational cooperation.

    But what is more important is that these are not separate or distinct threats. When we scratch the surface, we find them closely connected and interrelated.

    We are 1,000 people here today in this august hall. Imagine for a moment that we represent the world’s population. These 200 people on my left would be the wealthy of the world, who consume 80 per cent of the available resources. And these 400 people on my right would be living on an income of less than $2 per day.

    This underprivileged group of people on my right is no less intelligent or less worthy than their fellow human beings on the other side of the aisle. They were simply born into this fate.

    In the real world, this imbalance in living conditions inevitably leads to inequality of opportunity, and in many cases loss of hope. And what is worse, all too often the plight of the poor is compounded by and results in human rights abuses, a lack of good governance, and a deep sense of injustice. This combination naturally creates a most fertile breeding ground for civil wars, organized crime, and extremism in its different forms.

    In regions where conflicts have been left to fester for decades, countries continue to look for ways to offset their insecurities or project their ‘power’. In some cases, they may be tempted to seek their own weapons of mass destruction, like others who have preceded them.

    * * * * * * *

    Ladies and Gentlemen.

    Fifteen years ago, when the Cold War ended, many of us hoped for a new world order to emerge. A world order rooted in human solidarity – a world order that would be equitable, inclusive and effective.

    But today we are nowhere near that goal. We may have torn down the walls between East and West, but we have yet to build the bridges between North and South – the rich and the poor.

    Consider our development aid record. Last year, the nations of the world spent over $1 trillion on armaments. But we contributed less than 10 per cent of that amount – a mere $80 billion – as official development assistance to the developing parts of the world, where 850 million people suffer from hunger.

    My friend James Morris heads the World Food Programme, whose task it is to feed the hungry. He recently told me, “If I could have just 1 per cent of the money spent on global armaments, no one in this world would go to bed hungry.”

    It should not be a surprise then that poverty continues to breed conflict. Of the 13 million deaths due to armed conflict in the last ten years, 9 million occurred in sub-Saharan Africa, where the poorest of the poor live.

    Consider also our approach to the sanctity and value of human life. In the aftermath of the September 2001 terrorist attacks in the United States, we all grieved deeply, and expressed outrage at this heinous crime – and rightly so. But many people today are unaware that, as the result of civil war in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, 3.8 million people have lost their lives since 1998.

    Are we to conclude that our priorities are skewed, and our approaches uneven?

    * * * * * * *

    Ladies and Gentlemen. With this ‘big picture’ in mind, we can better understand the changing landscape in nuclear non-proliferation and disarmament.

    There are three main features to this changing landscape: the emergence of an extensive black market in nuclear material and equipment; the proliferation of nuclear weapons and sensitive nuclear technology; and the stagnation in nuclear disarmament.

    Today, with globalization bringing us ever closer together, if we choose to ignore the insecurities of some, they will soon become the insecurities of all.

    Equally, with the spread of advanced science and technology, as long as some of us choose to rely on nuclear weapons, we continue to risk that these same weapons will become increasingly attractive to others.

    I have no doubt that, if we hope to escape self-destruction, then nuclear weapons should have no place in our collective conscience, and no role in our security.

    To that end, we must ensure – absolutely – that no more countries acquire these deadly weapons.

    We must see to it that nuclear-weapon states take concrete steps towards nuclear disarmament.

    And we must put in place a security system that does not rely on nuclear deterrence.

    * * * * * * *

    Are these goals realistic and within reach? I do believe they are. But then three steps are urgently required.

    First, keep nuclear and radiological material out of the hands of extremist groups. In 2001, the IAEA together with the international community launched a worldwide campaign to enhance the security of such material. Protecting nuclear facilities. Securing powerful radioactive sources. Training law enforcement officials. Monitoring border crossings. In four years, we have completed perhaps 50 per cent of the work. But this is not fast enough, because we are in a race against time.

    Second, tighten control over the operations for producing the nuclear material that could be used in weapons. Under the current system, any country has the right to master these operations for civilian uses. But in doing so, it also masters the most difficult steps in making a nuclear bomb.

    To overcome this, I am hoping that we can make these operations multinational – so that no one country can have exclusive control over any such operation. My plan is to begin by setting up a reserve fuel bank, under IAEA control, so that every country will be assured that it will get the fuel needed for its bona fide peaceful nuclear activities. This assurance of supply will remove the incentive – and the justification – for each country to develop its own fuel cycle. We should then be able to agree on a moratorium on new national facilities, and to begin work on multinational arrangements for enrichment, fuel production, waste disposal and reprocessing.

    We must also strengthen the verification system. IAEA inspections are the heart and soul of the nuclear non-proliferation regime. To be effective, it is essential that we are provided with the necessary authority, information, advanced technology, and resources. And our inspections must be backed by the UN Security Council, to be called on in cases of non-compliance.

    Third, accelerate disarmament efforts. We still have eight or nine countries who possess nuclear weapons. We still have

    27,000 warheads in existence. I believe this is 27,000 too many.

    A good start would be if the nuclear-weapon states reduced the strategic role given to these weapons. More than 15 years after the end of the Cold War, it is incomprehensible to many that the major nuclear-weapon states operate with their arsenals on hair-trigger alert – such that, in the case of a possible launch of a nuclear attack, their leaders could have only 30 minutes to decide whether to retaliate, risking the devastation of entire nations in a matter of minutes.

    These are three concrete steps that, I believe, can readily be taken. Protect the material and strengthen verification. Control the fuel cycle. Accelerate disarmament efforts.

    But that is not enough. The hard part is: how do we create an environment in which nuclear weapons – like slavery or genocide – are regarded as a taboo and a historical anomaly?

    * * * * * * *

    Ladies and Gentlemen.

    Whether one believes in evolution, intelligent design, or Divine Creation, one thing is certain. Since the beginning of history, human beings have been at war with each other, under the pretext of religion, ideology, ethnicity and other reasons. And no civilization has ever willingly given up its most powerful weapons. We seem to agree today that we can share modern technology, but we still refuse to acknowledge that our values – at their very core – are shared values.

    I am an Egyptian Muslim, educated in Cairo and New York, and now living in Vienna. My wife and I have spent half our lives in the North, half in the South. And we have experienced first hand the unique nature of the human family and the common values we all share.

    Shakespeare speaks of every single member of that family in The Merchant of Venice, when he asks: “If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?”

    And lest we forget:

    There is no religion that was founded on intolerance – and no religion that does not value the sanctity of human life.

    Judaism asks that we value the beauty and joy of human existence.

    Christianity says we should treat our neighbours as we would be treated.

    Islam declares that killing one person unjustly is the same as killing all of humanity.

    Hinduism recognizes the entire universe as one family.

    Buddhism calls on us to cherish the oneness of all creation.

    Some would say that it is too idealistic to believe in a society based on tolerance and the sanctity of human life, where borders, nationalities and ideologies are of marginal importance. To those I say, this is not idealism, but rather realism, because history has taught us that war rarely resolves our differences. Force does not heal old wounds; it opens new ones.

    * * * * * * *

    Ladies and Gentlemen.

    I have talked about our efforts to combat the misuse of nuclear energy. Let me now tell you how this very same energy is used for the benefit of humankind.

    At the IAEA, we work daily on every continent to put nuclear and radiation techniques in the service of humankind. In Vietnam, farmers plant rice with greater nutritional value that was developed with IAEA assistance. Throughout Latin America, nuclear technology is being used to map underground aquifers, so that water supplies can be managed sustainably. In Ghana, a new radiotherapy machine is offering cancer treatment to thousands of patients. In the South Pacific, Japanese scientists are using nuclear techniques to study climate change. In India, eight new nuclear plants are under construction, to provide clean electricity for a growing nation – a case in point of the rising expectation for a surge in the use of nuclear energy worldwide.

    These projects, and a thousand others, exemplify the IAEA ideal: Atoms for Peace.

    But the expanding use of nuclear energy and technology also makes it crucial that nuclear safety and security are maintained at the highest level.

    Since the Chernobyl accident, we have worked all over the globe to raise nuclear safety performance. And since the September 2001 terrorist attacks, we have worked with even greater intensity on nuclear security. On both fronts, we have built an international network of legal norms and performance standards. But our most tangible impact has been on the ground. Hundreds of missions, in every part of the world, with international experts making sure nuclear activities are safe and secure.

    I am very proud of the 2,300 hard working men and women that make up the IAEA staff – the colleagues with whom I share this honour. Some of them are here with me today. We come from over 90 countries. We bring many different perspectives to our work. Our diversity is our strength.

    We are limited in our authority. We have a very modest budget. And we have no armies.

    But armed with the strength of our convictions, we will continue to speak truth to power. And we will continue to carry out our mandate with independence and objectivity.

    The Nobel Peace Prize is a powerful message for us – to endure in our efforts to work for security and development. A durable peace is not a single achievement, but an environment, a process and a commitment.

    * * * * * * *

    Ladies and Gentlemen.

    The picture I have painted today may have seemed somewhat grim. Let me conclude by telling you why I have hope.

    I have hope because the positive aspects of globalization are enabling nations and peoples to become politically, economically and socially interdependent, making war an increasingly unacceptable option.

    Among the 25 members of the European Union, the degree of economic and socio-political dependencies has made the prospect of the use of force to resolve differences almost absurd. The same is emerging with regard to the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe, with some 55 member countries from Europe, Central Asia and North America. Could these models be expanded to a world model, through the same creative multilateral engagement and active international cooperation, where the strong are just and the weak secure?

    I have hope because civil society is becoming better informed and more engaged. They are pressing their governments for change – to create democratic societies based on diversity, tolerance and equality. They are proposing creative solutions. They are raising awareness, donating funds, working to transform civic spirit from the local to the global. Working to bring the human family closer together.

    We now have the opportunity, more than at any time before, to give an affirmative answer to one of the oldest questions of all time: “Am I my brother’s keeper?”

    What is required is a new mindset and a change of heart, to be able to see the person across the ocean as our neighbour.

    Finally, I have hope because of what I see in my children, and some of their generation.

    I took my first trip abroad at the age of 19. My children were even more fortunate than I. They had their first exposure to foreign culture as infants, and they were raised in a multicultural environment. And I can say absolutely that my son and daughter are oblivious to colour and race and nationality. They see no difference between their friends Noriko, Mafupo, Justin, Saulo and Hussam; to them, they are only fellow human beings and good friends.

    Globalization, through travel, media and communication, can also help us – as it has with my children and many of their peers – to see each other simply as human beings.

    * * * * * * *

    Your Majesties, Your Royal Highness, Ladies and Gentlemen.

    Imagine what would happen if the nations of the world spent as much on development as on building the machines of war. Imagine a world where every human being would live in freedom and dignity. Imagine a world in which we would shed the same tears when a child dies in Darfur or Vancouver. Imagine a world where we would settle our differences through diplomacy and dialogue and not through bombs or bullets. Imagine if the only nuclear weapons remaining were the relics in our museums. Imagine the legacy we could leave to our children.

    Imagine that such a world is within our grasp.

  • Art, Truth & Politics Nobel Lecture

    In 1958 I wrote the following:
    ‘There are no hard distinctions between what is real and what is unreal, nor between what is true and what is false. A thing is not necessarily either true or false; it can be both true and false.’
    I believe that these assertions still make sense and do still apply to the exploration of reality through art. So as a writer I stand by them but as a citizen I cannot. As a citizen I must ask: What is true? What is false?
    Truth in drama is forever elusive. You never quite find it but the search for it is compulsive. The search is clearly what drives the endeavour. The search is your task. More often than not you stumble upon the truth in the dark, colliding with it or just glimpsing an image or a shape which seems to correspond to the truth, often without realising that you have done so. But the real truth is that there never is any such thing as one truth to be found in dramatic art. There are many. These truths challenge each other, recoil from each other, reflect each other, ignore each other, tease each other, are blind to each other. Sometimes you feel you have the truth of a moment in your hand, then it slips through your fingers and is lost.
    I have often been asked how my plays come about. I cannot say. Nor can I ever sum up my plays, except to say that this is what happened. That is what they said. That is what they did.
    Most of the plays are engendered by a line, a word or an image. The given word is often shortly followed by the image. I shall give two examples of two lines which came right out of the blue into my head, followed by an image, followed by me.
    The plays are The Homecoming and Old Times. The first line of The Homecoming is ‘What have you done with the scissors?’ The first line of Old Times is ‘Dark.’
    In each case I had no further information.
    In the first case someone was obviously looking for a pair of scissors and was demanding their whereabouts of someone else he suspected had probably stolen them. But I somehow knew that the person addressed didn’t give a damn about the scissors or about the questioner either, for that matter.
    ‘Dark’ I took to be a description of someone’s hair, the hair of a woman, and was the answer to a question. In each case I found myself compelled to pursue the matter. This happened visually, a very slow fade, through shadow into light. I always start a play by calling the characters A, B and C.
    In the play that became The Homecoming I saw a man enter a stark room and ask his question of a younger man sitting on an ugly sofa reading a racing paper. I somehow suspected that A was a father and that B was his son, but I had no proof. This was however confirmed a short time later when B (later to become Lenny) says to A (later to become Max), ‘Dad, do you mind if I change the subject? I want to ask you something. The dinner we had before, what was the name of it? What do you call it? Why don’t you buy a dog? You’re a dog cook. Honest. You think you’re cooking for a lot of dogs.’ So since B calls A ‘Dad’ it seemed to me reasonable to assume that they were father and son. A was also clearly the cook and his cooking did not seem to be held in high regard. Did this mean that there was no mother? I didn’t know. But, as I told myself at the time, our beginnings never know our ends.
    ‘Dark.’ A large window. Evening sky. A man, A (later to become Deeley), and a woman, B (later to become Kate), sitting with drinks. ‘Fat or thin?’ the man asks. Who are they talking about? But I then see, standing at the window, a woman, C (later to become Anna), in another condition of light, her back to them, her hair dark.
    It’s a strange moment, the moment of creating characters who up to that moment have had no existence. What follows is fitful, uncertain, even hallucinatory, although sometimes it can be an unstoppable avalanche. The author’s position is an odd one. In a sense he is not welcomed by the characters. The characters resist him, they are not easy to live with, they are impossible to define. You certainly can’t dictate to them. To a certain extent you play a never-ending game with them, cat and mouse, blind man’s buff, hide and seek. But finally you find that you have people of flesh and blood on your hands, people with will and an individual sensibility of their own, made out of component parts you are unable to change, manipulate or distort.
    So language in art remains a highly ambiguous transaction, a quicksand, a trampoline, a frozen pool which might give way under you, the author, at any time. But as I have said, the search for the truth can never stop. It cannot be adjourned, it cannot be postponed. It has to be faced, right there, on the spot.
    Political theatre presents an entirely different set of problems. Sermonising has to be avoided at all cost. Objectivity is essential. The characters must be allowed to breathe their own air. The author cannot confine and constrict them to satisfy his own taste or disposition or prejudice. He must be prepared to approach them from a variety of angles, from a full and uninhibited range of perspectives, take them by surprise, perhaps, occasionally, but nevertheless give them the freedom to go which way they will. This does not always work. And political satire, of course, adheres to none of these precepts, in fact does precisely the opposite, which is its proper function.
    In my play The Birthday Party I think I allow a whole range of options to operate in a dense forest of possibility before finally focussing on an act of subjugation. Mountain Language pretends to no such range of operation. It remains brutal, short and ugly. But the soldiers in the play do get some fun out of it. One sometimes forgets that torturers become easily bored. They need a bit of a laugh to keep their spirits up. This has been confirmed of course by the events at Abu Ghraib in Baghdad. Mountain Language lasts only 20 minutes, but it could go on for hour after hour, on and on and on, the same pattern repeated over and over again, on and on, hour after hour.
    Ashes to Ashes, on the other hand, seems to me to be taking place under water. A drowning woman, her hand reaching up through the waves, dropping down out of sight, reaching for others, but finding nobody there, either above or under the water, finding only shadows, reflections, floating; the woman a lost figure in a drowning landscape, a woman unable to escape the doom that seemed to belong only to others.
    But as they died, she must die too.
    Political language, as used by politicians, does not venture into any of this territory since the majority of politicians, on the evidence available to us, are interested not in truth but in power and in the maintenance of that power. To maintain that power it is essential that people remain in ignorance, that they live in ignorance of the truth, even the truth of their own lives. What surrounds us therefore is a vast tapestry of lies, upon which we feed.
    As every single person here knows, the justification for the invasion of Iraq was that Saddam Hussein possessed a highly dangerous body of weapons of mass destruction, some of which could be fired in 45 minutes, bringing about appalling devastation. We were assured that was true. It was not true. We were told that Iraq had a relationship with Al Quaeda and shared responsibility for the atrocity in New York of September 11th 2001. We were assured that this was true. It was not true. We were told that Iraq threatened the security of the world. We were assured it was true. It was not true.
    The truth is something entirely different. The truth is to do with how the United States understands its role in the world and how it chooses to embody it. But before I come back to the present I would like to look at the recent past, by which I mean United States foreign policy since the end of the Second World War. I believe it is obligatory upon us to subject this period to at least some kind of even limited scrutiny, which is all that time will allow here.
    Everyone knows what happened in the Soviet Union and throughout Eastern Europe during the post-war period: the systematic brutality, the widespread atrocities, the ruthless suppression of independent thought. All this has been fully documented and verified.
    But my contention here is that the US crimes in the same period have only been superficially recorded, let alone documented, let alone acknowledged, let alone recognised as crimes at all. I believe this must be addressed and that the truth has considerable bearing on where the world stands now. Although constrained, to a certain extent, by the existence of the Soviet Union, the United States’ actions throughout the world made it clear that it had concluded it had carte blanche to do what it liked.
    Direct invasion of a sovereign state has never in fact been America’s favoured method. In the main, it has preferred what it has described as ‘low intensity conflict’. Low intensity conflict means that thousands of people die but slower than if you dropped a bomb on them in one fell swoop. It means that you infect the heart of the country, that you establish a malignant growth and watch the gangrene bloom. When the populace has been subdued – or beaten to death – the same thing – and your own friends, the military and the great corporations, sit comfortably in power, you go before the camera and say that democracy has prevailed. This was a commonplace in US foreign policy in the years to which I refer.
    The tragedy of Nicaragua was a highly significant case. I choose to offer it here as a potent example of America’s view of its role in the world, both then and now. I was present at a meeting at the US embassy in London in the late 1980s. The United States Congress was about to decide whether to give more money to the Contras in their campaign against the state of Nicaragua. I was a member of a delegation speaking on behalf of Nicaragua but the most important member of this delegation was a Father John Metcalf. The leader of the US body was Raymond Seitz (then number two to the ambassador, later ambassador himself). Father Metcalf said: ‘Sir, I am in charge of a parish in the north of Nicaragua. My parishioners built a school, a health centre, a cultural centre. We have lived in peace. A few months ago a Contra force attacked the parish. They destroyed everything: the school, the health centre, the cultural centre. They raped nurses and teachers, slaughtered doctors, in the most brutal manner. They behaved like savages. Please demand that the US government withdraw its support from this shocking terrorist activity.’
    Raymond Seitz had a very good reputation as a rational, responsible and highly sophisticated man. He was greatly respected in diplomatic circles. He listened, paused and then spoke with some gravity. ‘Father,’ he said, ‘let me tell you something. In war, innocent people always suffer.’ There was a frozen silence. We stared at him. He did not flinch.
    Innocent people, indeed, always suffer.
    Finally somebody said: ‘But in this case “innocent people” were the victims of a gruesome atrocity subsidised by your government, one among many. If Congress allows the Contras more money further atrocities of this kind will take place. Is this not the case? Is your government not therefore guilty of supporting acts of murder and destruction upon the citizens of a sovereign state?’
    Seitz was imperturbable. ‘I don’t agree that the facts as presented support your assertions,’ he said.
    As we were leaving the Embassy a US aide told me that he enjoyed my plays. I did not reply.
    I should remind you that at the time President Reagan made the following statement: ‘The Contras are the moral equivalent of our Founding Fathers.’ The United States supported the brutal Somoza dictatorship in Nicaragua for over 40 years. The Nicaraguan people, led by the Sandinistas, overthrew this regime in 1979, a breathtaking popular revolution.
    The Sandinistas weren’t perfect. They possessed their fair share of arrogance and their political philosophy contained a number of contradictory elements. But they were intelligent, rational and civilised. They set out to establish a stable, decent, pluralistic society. The death penalty was abolished. Hundreds of thousands of poverty-stricken peasants were brought back from the dead. Over 100,000 families were given title to land. Two thousand schools were built. A quite remarkable literacy campaign reduced illiteracy in the country to less than one seventh. Free education was established and a free health service. Infant mortality was reduced by a third. Polio was eradicated.
    The United States denounced these achievements as Marxist/Leninist subversion. In the view of the US government, a dangerous example was being set. If Nicaragua was allowed to establish basic norms of social and economic justice, if it was allowed to raise the standards of health care and education and achieve social unity and national self respect, neighbouring countries would ask the same questions and do the same things. There was of course at the time fierce resistance to the status quo in El Salvador.
    I spoke earlier about ‘a tapestry of lies’ which surrounds us. President Reagan commonly described Nicaragua as a ‘totalitarian dungeon’. This was taken generally by the media, and certainly by the British government, as accurate and fair comment. But there was in fact no record of death squads under the Sandinista government. There was no record of torture. There was no record of systematic or official military brutality. No priests were ever murdered in Nicaragua. There were in fact three priests in the government, two Jesuits and a Maryknoll missionary. The totalitarian dungeons were actually next door, in El Salvador and Guatemala. The United States had brought down the democratically elected government of Guatemala in 1954 and it is estimated that over 200,000 people had been victims of successive military dictatorships.
    Six of the most distinguished Jesuits in the world were viciously murdered at the Central American University in San Salvador in 1989 by a battalion of the Alcatl regiment trained at Fort Benning, Georgia, USA. That extremely brave man Archbishop Romero was assassinated while saying mass. It is estimated that 75,000 people died. Why were they killed? They were killed because they believed a better life was possible and should be achieved. That belief immediately qualified them as communists. They died because they dared to question the status quo, the endless plateau of poverty, disease, degradation and oppression, which had been their birthright.
    The United States finally brought down the Sandinista government. It took some years and considerable resistance but relentless economic persecution and 30,000 dead finally undermined the spirit of the Nicaraguan people. They were exhausted and poverty stricken once again. The casinos moved back into the country. Free health and free education were over. Big business returned with a vengeance. ‘Democracy’ had prevailed.
    But this ‘policy’ was by no means restricted to Central America. It was conducted throughout the world. It was never-ending. And it is as if it never happened. The United States supported and in many cases engendered every right wing military dictatorship in the world after the end of the Second World War. I refer to Indonesia, Greece, Uruguay, Brazil, Paraguay, Haiti, Turkey, the Philippines, Guatemala, El Salvador, and, of course, Chile. The horror the United States inflicted upon Chile in 1973 can never be purged and can never be forgiven. Hundreds of thousands of deaths took place throughout these countries. Did they take place? And are they in all cases attributable to US foreign policy? The answer is yes they did take place and they are attributable to American foreign policy. But you wouldn’t know it.
    It never happened. Nothing ever happened. Even while it was happening it wasn’t happening. It didn’t matter. It was of no interest. The crimes of the United States have been systematic, constant, vicious, remorseless, but very few people have actually talked about them. You have to hand it to America. It has exercised a quite clinical manipulation of power worldwide while masquerading as a force for universal good. It’s a brilliant, even witty, highly successful act of hypnosis. I put to you that the United States is without doubt the greatest show on the road. Brutal, indifferent, scornful and ruthless it may be but it is also very clever. As a salesman it is out on its own and its most saleable commodity is self love. It’s a winner. Listen to all American presidents on television say the words, ‘the American people’, as in the sentence, ‘I say to the American people it is time to pray and to defend the rights of the American people and I ask the American people to trust their president in the action he is about to take on behalf of the American people.’
    It’s a scintillating stratagem. Language is actually employed to keep thought at bay. The words ‘the American people’ provide a truly voluptuous cushion of reassurance. You don’t need to think. Just lie back on the cushion. The cushion may be suffocating your intelligence and your critical faculties but it’s very comfortable. This does not apply of course to the 40 million people living below the poverty line and the 2 million men and women imprisoned in the vast gulag of prisons, which extends across the US.
    The United States no longer bothers about low intensity conflict. It no longer sees any point in being reticent or even devious. It puts its cards on the table without fear or favour. It quite simply doesn’t give a damn about the United Nations, international law or critical dissent, which it regards as impotent and irrelevant. It also has its own bleating little lamb tagging behind it on a lead, the pathetic and supine Great Britain.
    What has happened to our moral sensibility? Did we ever have any? What do these words mean? Do they refer to a term very rarely employed these days – conscience? A conscience to do not only with our own acts but to do with our shared responsibility in the acts of others? Is all this dead? Look at Guantanamo Bay. Hundreds of people detained without charge for over three years, with no legal representation or due process, technically detained forever. This totally illegitimate structure is maintained in defiance of the Geneva Convention. It is not only tolerated but hardly thought about by what’s called the ‘international community’. This criminal outrage is being committed by a country, which declares itself to be ‘the leader of the free world’. Do we think about the inhabitants of Guantanamo Bay? What does the media say about them? They pop up occasionally – a small item on page six. They have been consigned to a no man’s land from which indeed they may never return. At present many are on hunger strike, being force-fed, including British residents. No niceties in these force-feeding procedures. No sedative or anaesthetic. Just a tube stuck up your nose and into your throat. You vomit blood. This is torture. What has the British Foreign Secretary said about this? Nothing. What has the British Prime Minister said about this? Nothing. Why not? Because the United States has said: to criticise our conduct in Guantanamo Bay constitutes an unfriendly act. You’re either with us or against us. So Blair shuts up.
    The invasion of Iraq was a bandit act, an act of blatant state terrorism, demonstrating absolute contempt for the concept of international law. The invasion was an arbitrary military action inspired by a series of lies upon lies and gross manipulation of the media and therefore of the public; an act intended to consolidate American military and economic control of the Middle East masquerading – as a last resort – all other justifications having failed to justify themselves – as liberation. A formidable assertion of military force responsible for the death and mutilation of thousands and thousands of innocent people.
    We have brought torture, cluster bombs, depleted uranium, innumerable acts of random murder, misery, degradation and death to the Iraqi people and call it ‘bringing freedom and democracy to the Middle East’.
    How many people do you have to kill before you qualify to be described as a mass murderer and a war criminal? One hundred thousand? More than enough, I would have thought. Therefore it is just that Bush and Blair be arraigned before the International Criminal Court of Justice. But Bush has been clever. He has not ratified the International Criminal Court of Justice. Therefore if any American soldier or for that matter politician finds himself in the dock Bush has warned that he will send in the marines. But Tony Blair has ratified the Court and is therefore available for prosecution. We can let the Court have his address if they’re interested. It is Number 10, Downing Street, London.
    Death in this context is irrelevant. Both Bush and Blair place death well away on the back burner. At least 100,000 Iraqis were killed by American bombs and missiles before the Iraq insurgency began. These people are of no moment. Their deaths don’t exist. They are blank. They are not even recorded as being dead. ‘We don’t do body counts,’ said the American general Tommy Franks.
    Early in the invasion there was a photograph published on the front page of British newspapers of Tony Blair kissing the cheek of a little Iraqi boy. ‘A grateful child,’ said the caption. A few days later there was a story and photograph, on an inside page, of another four-year-old boy with no arms. His family had been blown up by a missile. He was the only survivor. ‘When do I get my arms back?’ he asked. The story was dropped. Well, Tony Blair wasn’t holding him in his arms, nor the body of any other mutilated child, nor the body of any bloody corpse. Blood is dirty. It dirties your shirt and tie when you’re making a sincere speech on television. The 2,000 American dead are an embarrassment. They are transported to their graves in the dark. Funerals are unobtrusive, out of harm’s way. The mutilated rot in their beds, some for the rest of their lives. So the dead and the mutilated both rot, in different kinds of graves.
    Here is an extract from a poem by Pablo Neruda, ‘I’m Explaining a Few Things’:

     

    And one morning all that was burning, one morning the bonfires leapt out of the earth devouring human beings and from then on fire, gunpowder from then on, and from then on blood. Bandits with planes and Moors, bandits with finger-rings and duchesses, bandits with black friars spattering blessings came through the sky to kill children and the blood of children ran through the streets without fuss, like children’s blood.
    Jackals that the jackals would despise stones that the dry thistle would bite on and spit out, vipers that the vipers would abominate.
    Face to face with you I have seen the blood of Spain tower like a tide to drown you in one wave of pride and knives.
    Treacherous generals: see my dead house, look at broken Spain: from every house burning metal flows instead of flowers from every socket of Spain Spain emerges and from every dead child a rifle with eyes and from every crime bullets are born which will one day find the bull’s eye of your hearts. And you will ask: why doesn’t his poetry speak of dreams and leaves and the great volcanoes of his native land.
    Come and see the blood in the streets. Come and see the blood in the streets. Come and see the blood in the streets!*

     

    Let me make it quite clear that in quoting from Neruda’s poem I am in no way comparing Republican Spain to Saddam Hussein’s Iraq. I quote Neruda because nowhere in contemporary poetry have I read such a powerful visceral description of the bombing of civilians.
    I have said earlier that the United States is now totally frank about putting its cards on the table. That is the case. Its official declared policy is now defined as ‘full spectrum dominance’. That is not my term, it is theirs. ‘Full spectrum dominance’ means control of land, sea, air and space and all attendant resources.
    The United States now occupies 702 military installations throughout the world in 132 countries, with the honourable exception of Sweden, of course. We don’t quite know how they got there but they are there all right.
    The United States possesses 8,000 active and operational nuclear warheads. Two thousand are on hair trigger alert, ready to be launched with 15 minutes warning. It is developing new systems of nuclear force, known as bunker busters. The British, ever cooperative, are intending to replace their own nuclear missile, Trident. Who, I wonder, are they aiming at? Osama bin Laden? You? Me? Joe Dokes? China? Paris? Who knows? What we do know is that this infantile insanity – the possession and threatened use of nuclear weapons – is at the heart of present American political philosophy. We must remind ourselves that the United States is on a permanent military footing and shows no sign of relaxing it.
    Many thousands, if not millions, of people in the United States itself are demonstrably sickened, shamed and angered by their government’s actions, but as things stand they are not a coherent political force – yet. But the anxiety, uncertainty and fear which we can see growing daily in the United States is unlikely to diminish.
    I know that President Bush has many extremely competent speech writers but I would like to volunteer for the job myself. I propose the following short address which he can make on television to the nation. I see him grave, hair carefully combed, serious, winning, sincere, often beguiling, sometimes employing a wry smile, curiously attractive, a man’s man.
    ‘God is good. God is great. God is good. My God is good. Bin Laden’s God is bad. His is a bad God. Saddam’s God was bad, except he didn’t have one. He was a barbarian. We are not barbarians. We don’t chop people’s heads off. We believe in freedom. So does God. I am not a barbarian. I am the democratically elected leader of a freedom-loving democracy. We are a compassionate society. We give compassionate electrocution and compassionate lethal injection. We are a great nation. I am not a dictator. He is. I am not a barbarian. He is. And he is. They all are. I possess moral authority. You see this fist? This is my moral authority. And don’t you forget it.’
    A writer’s life is a highly vulnerable, almost naked activity. We don’t have to weep about that. The writer makes his choice and is stuck with it. But it is true to say that you are open to all the winds, some of them icy indeed. You are out on your own, out on a limb. You find no shelter, no protection – unless you lie – in which case of course you have constructed your own protection and, it could be argued, become a politician.
    I have referred to death quite a few times this evening. I shall now quote a poem of my own called ‘Death’.

     

    Where was the dead body found? Who found the dead body? Was the dead body dead when found? How was the dead body found?
    Who was the dead body?
    Who was the father or daughter or brother Or uncle or sister or mother or son Of the dead and abandoned body?
    Was the body dead when abandoned? Was the body abandoned? By whom had it been abandoned?
    Was the dead body naked or dressed for a journey?
    What made you declare the dead body dead? Did you declare the dead body dead? How well did you know the dead body? How did you know the dead body was dead?
    Did you wash the dead body Did you close both its eyes Did you bury the body Did you leave it abandoned Did you kiss the dead body

     

    When we look into a mirror we think the image that confronts us is accurate. But move a millimetre and the image changes. We are actually looking at a never-ending range of reflections. But sometimes a writer has to smash the mirror – for it is on the other side of that mirror that the truth stares at us.
    I believe that despite the enormous odds which exist, unflinching, unswerving, fierce intellectual determination, as citizens, to define the real truth of our lives and our societies is a crucial obligation which devolves upon us all. It is in fact mandatory.
    If such a determination is not embodied in our political vision we have no hope of restoring what is so nearly lost to us – the dignity of man.

     

    * Extract from “I’m Explaining a Few Things” translated by Nathaniel Tarn, from Pablo Neruda: Selected Poems, published by Jonathan Cape, London 1970. Used by permission of The Random House Group Limited.

     

  • The Holocaust and the Nuremburg Trials

    The greatest tribute we can pay to the memory of those who perished in the Holocaust and similar tragedies is never to stop trying to make this a more humane and peaceful world. The United Nations Charter of June 1945, expressed the determination “to save succeeding generations from the scourge of war.” Its Preamble spoke of the equality of nations large and small. It called for enhanced social justice, tolerance and respect for international law. In August 1945, the United States, the Soviet Union, Great Britain and France signed another Charter – creating the International Military Tribunal (IMT) — to bring to justice some of the German leaders responsible for aggression, crimes against humanity. and related atrocities. How far have we come and what more must be done before these noble goals can be achieved?

    THE LEGACY OF NUREMBERG

    The International Military Tribunal

    Germany had surrendered unconditionally. Each of the four occupying powers assigned leading jurists to serve as judges and prosecutors for the IMT. It was agreed that the proceedings had to be absolutely fair. The situs would be in Nuremberg, the home of Nazi party rallies. Robert M. Jackson, leading architect for the trials, took leave from the US Supreme Court to serve as America’s Chief Prosecutor. In his Opening Statement, Justice Jackson set the standard: “We must never forget that the record on which we judge these defendants today is the record on which history will judge us tomorrow.”

    Adolf Hitler and some of his top aides committed suicide, as did Field-Marshal Hermann Goering after he was sentenced to death by the IMT. Of the twenty-four defendants, three were acquitted, nine were imprisoned and twelve were sentenced to hang. The world was put on notice that those who held the reins of power would be accountable for their crimes. The learned IMT jurists confirmed the legal jurisdiction of the court and the validity of the charges under existing law. All proceedings were open to the public. The accused were presumed innocent, given humane treatment, and guaranteed rights, which they, in the days of their pomp and power, never gave to any man.

    After the widely adopted Kellogg Pact of 1928 outlawed the use of force, it should have come as no ex-post facto surprise to Nazi leaders that their blitzkrieg against other states would no longer be tolerated. Jackson noted that international law does not stand still but gradually evolves to meet changing needs. In 1946, the Nuremberg judgment and principles were unanimously affirmed by the first General Assembly of the United Nations. The law had taken a step forward. Aggressive war, which had previously been accepted as an international right, was confirmed as a punishable international crime.

    Subsequent Trials in Nuremberg

    Subsequent trials at Nuremberg, Tokyo and elsewhere built on the IMT foundation. The Allied Powers were unable to agree on another joint international trial but each could try their own captives. Since the IMT could provide only a snapshot of Nazi criminality, the US decided to conduct a dozen “subsequent proceedings” to be directed by General Telford Taylor, a key player on Jackson’s staff. Indictments were filed against doctors who performed forced medical experiments, judges who perverted the law, industrialists, military leaders and ministers who supported illegal Nazi policies. 142 of the 185 tried in the “subsequent proceedings” were convicted.

    In April 1946, I was recruited by the Pentagon to return to Germany to assist with the “Subsequent Proceedings.” I had worked as a research assistant to a Harvard professor writing a book on war crimes before I joined the army, as a private in the artillery, in 1943. When US troops advanced into Germany, I was transferred to General Patton’s Headquarters to help set up a war crimes program. As a war crimes investigator, I dug up bodies of captured Allied flyers beaten to death by enraged German mobs. I entered many concentration camps with the liberating army and witnessed the horrors of the Holocaust firsthand. I assembled documents and data to prove the full extent of Nazi criminality. The trauma of those indescribable experiences has never left me.

    After setting up offices in Berlin to gather evidence to support the planned new prosecutions, General Taylor assigned me to be Chief Prosecutor in what was known as the Einsatzgruppen case. The defendants were leaders of SS units that followed advancing German troops into occupied Poland and the Soviet Union. Their mission was to kill, without pity or remorse, every Jewish man, woman and child they could lay their hands on. Gypsies and any other perceived threats to the Reich were to suffer the same fate. According to their secret reports, these extermination squads, totaling about 3000 men, deliberately massacred over a million innocent people. The victims were killed simply because they did not share the race, religion or ideology of their executioners.

    The Mentality of Mass Murderers

    To prevent acts of genocidal barbarism, one must understand the mentality and reasoning of the murderers. The twenty-two defendants in the Einsatzgruppen case were selected on the basis of high rank and education. Many held doctor degrees — six were SS Generals. The principle defendant, General Dr. Otto Ohlendorf, patiently explained why his unit had killed about 90,000 Jews. Killing all Jews and Gypsies was necessary, said Ohlendorf. as a matter of self-defense.

    According to Ohlendorf, it was known that the Soviets planned total war against Germany. A German preemptive strike was better than waiting to be attacked. It was also known, said Ohlendorf, that Jews supported the Bolsheviks – therefore all Jews had to be eliminated. But why did he, the father of five children, kill the little babes — thousands of them? The bland reply was that if the children learned that their parents had been eliminated, they would grow up to be enemies of Germany. Long range security was the goal. He lacked facts sufficient to challenge Hitler’s conclusions. It was all very logical — according to General Dr. Ohlendorf.

    I had not called for the death penalty, although I felt it was richly deserved. I simply asked the court to affirm the right of all human beings to live in peace and dignity regardless of race or creed. It was “a plea of humanity to law.” The three experienced American judges concluded that a preemptive strike as anticipatory self-defense was not a valid legal justification for mass murder. If every nation could decide for itself when to attack a presumed enemy, and when to engage in total war, the rule of law would be destroyed and the world would be destroyed with it. All of the defendants were convicted; thirteen were sentenced to death and Ohlendorf was hanged. I was then 27 years old and it was my first case. The ideals that I then expressed have remained with me all of my life.

    HOW FAR HAVE WE COME?

    Restitution and Compensation

    Despite having promised my bride when we were wed in New York that we would be in Germany only for a brief honeymoon, we stayed on to help obtain restitution, compensation and rehabilitation for the survivors of persecution. As a salaried employee of Jewish charities, I directed innovative programs which had no historical or legal precedent. When, by 1956, Nazi victims of all persuasions had received payments from the West German government approaching about 50 billion dollars, we decided that it was time to return home with our four children born in Nuremberg. Practicing law in New York proved uninspiring. With war and killings raging all over the globe, I decided, at the age of fifty, to spend the rest f my life trying to replace the law of force by the force of law.

    New International Criminal Courts

    My mind turned to international criminal courts to deter international crimes. In 1946 the UN had called for a code of international crimes and an international criminal court to build on the Nuremberg precedents. Accredited as a member of a non-governmental organization, I obtained access to UN archives. I learned that delegates, unable, or unwilling, to agree upon a definition of the crime of aggression, argued that without it there could be no criminal code and without a code there could be no court. In truth, powerful nations were not ready to yield cherished sovereign prerogatives to any international criminal tribunal. After a definition of aggression by consensus was finally reached in 1974, the gates were opened for further work on the criminal code and court. The problems were thoroughly explored and documented in a number of books that I published between 1975 and 1983. My 1994 book New Legal Foundations for Global Survival was a comprehensive overview that UN Secretary General Kofi Annan generously described as “remarkable.”

    It took mass rapes in former Yugoslavia in 1991 to shake the world out of its lethargy. In 1993 the UN Security Council created the International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY), to hold accountable those responsible for crimes against humanity, war crimes and the genocide cloaked as “ethnic cleansing.” When – to the everlasting shame of the international community — over 800,000 people were butchered in Rwanda in fratricidal tribal rivalries, the Security Council set up another ad hoc tribunal, the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR), to bring some of the instigators and perpetrators to justice.

    Similar international tribunals, with limited jurisdictions, are beginning to function for crimes against humanity committed in Cambodia, Sierra Leone, East Timor and elsewhere. It should be obvious that temporary courts, created for a limited time in a limited area after the crimes have been committed, is hardly the most efficient way to ensure international justice. The missing link in the world’s legal order was a permanent court with universally binding laws that might help deter such crimes before they occurred.

    The International Criminal Court in the Hague

    After many years of difficult negotiations and compromises, the Statute for an International Criminal Court (ICC) was adopted by a treaty signed in Rome on 17 July 1998. 120 delegations voted in favor and seven against. UN Secretary-general Kofi Annan called it “a gift of hope to future generations.” By July 1, 2002, the treaty went into effect with ratification by 60 nations. By the end of 2005, the number of ratification had swelled to one hundred. Ratification by some of the major powers is still outstanding. The United States, indicated its early support for the ICC, when President Bill Clinton addressed the General Assembly. He had the treaty signed at the UN on New Year’s Eve, 2000. But, in an unprecedented repudiation, the signature of President Clinton was canceled as the new Bush administration, in May 2002, notified the UN that the US had no intention of becoming a party to the ICC.

    Conservative forces in the US government argued that the uncontrolled prosecutor, might unfairly prosecute US servicemmbers. Nations were warned that US economic and military aid would be halted unless they signed agreements exempting US citizens and their employees from the reach of the new Hague tribunal. The US, that had done so much to advance the rule of law, turned its back on the Nuremberg principle espoused by Jackson, Telford Taylor and many others, that law must apply equally to everyone.

    The fears expressed by the US government are misguided and not shared by the hundred nations that support the ICC — including America’s staunchest allies and the entire European Community. Under the ICC Statute, every nation must be given priority to try its own nationals. Only when the country is unable or unwilling to provide a fair trial can the ICC exercise jurisdiction. No prosecutor in human history has been subject to more controls. The American Bar Association and leading jurists support the ICC. It is hoped that when the ICC has proved its fairness and merit, the US will end its unreasonable boycott and join the other nations seeking to uphold fundamental principles of international humanitarian law.

    WHERE ARE WE GOING?

    Changing the way People Think.

    In every great democracy it is inevitable that there will be differences of opinion. There have always been those who are convinced that warfare is an unchangeable part of man’s nature. War is seen as a glorious manifestation of Divine law — “the big fish eat the little fish. Despite pretensions to the contrary, such skeptics do not really believe in international law. They reject the utility of new rules of the road or new institutions that seek to improve human behavior. They deride as “dreamers” or “idealists” those who believe that entrenched practices and values can be altered. Yet, history proves they are mistaken.

    Slavery has been abolished, women’s rights are growing, colonialism has all but ended, sovereign states are forming multinational unions bound by common rules, international criminal law and humanitarian law have come into existence and international courts are beginning to flourish. Nations are increasingly recognizing that, in this interdependent world, they must cooperate for their common welfare. The revolution in technology and communication holds forth the promise of a completely altered international and integrated human society for the enhanced benefit of all.

    To be sure, adherence to traditional cultures can enhance the quality of life and should be nourished. Loyalty to one’s neighborhood, nation or religion are cherished values that should be respected. But, as Nuremberg showed, differences of race, religion or ideology cannot be tolerated as valid grounds for destroying those who happen to be different. It is not permissible “self-defense” to slaughter “the other” — it is the crime of murder.

    Aggression, according to the Nuremberg judges and other precedents, is “the supreme international crime” since it includes all the other crimes. There can be no war without atrocities and unauthorized warfare in violation of the UN Charter is the biggest atrocity of all. The best way to protect the lives of courageous young people who serve in the military is to avoid war-making itself. One cannot kill an idea with a gun but only with a better idea. If people believe that law is better than war they must do all they can to enhance the power of law and stop glorifying war.

    There can be no real peace for anyone until there is peace for everyone. Education for peace must start at the earliest ages and be carried through all the institutions and modalities of learning, Understanding, tolerance, compassion, compromise and infinite patience hold forth more promise than the threat of nuclear annihilation or the devastating perils of modern warfare. The memory of those who perished in the Holocaust, and countless wars since then, cry out for an improved social order and a more humane and peaceful world for everyone.

    Benjamin B. Ferencz, a member of the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation’s Advisory Council, was Chief Prosecutor in the Nuremberg war crimes trial against Nazi extermination squads. He directed postwar restitution programs for survivors of persecution, practiced law in New York, was an Adjunct Professor at Pace Law School and is the author of many books and articles. He is a frequent lecturer on world peace. See his website: www.benferencz.org.