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Book Reviews CPP Newsletter Online V23

Weigart and Crews’ Teaching for Justice by Gail Presbey

Presbey, Gail (Univ. of Detroit – Mercy). “Just Education: A Review of Kathleen Maas Weigert and Robin J. Crews, eds. Teaching for Justice: Concepts and Models for Service-Learning in Peace Studies. Washington, D.C.: American Association for Higher Education, 1999.” CPP Newsletter Vol. 23, Nos. 1-2 (Spring-Fall 2003).

This book is filled with good practical advice on how to use service learning to help students gain a deeper understanding of the field of peace and justice studies. In what follows, I will highlight the key ideas that it conveys and conclude with an evaluation. As Weigart explains in the introduction, the goal of a peace and justice course is not just to master certain materials, but to help students become committed to action that will make the world a better place (9).

The service-learning placements make students cross over from theory into practice, possibly starting a lifelong good habit. Peace and Justice studies is not a “value free” discipline; rather, it is in favor of peace, justice, equality, and the meeting of people’s basic needs (12). Weigart cautions that the term “service” sometimes carries the connotation of “noblesse oblige” (16).

So Elise Boulding begins with an important clarification in the preface: she argues that service learning should be an experience of partnering with communities, not a case of do-gooders who go out and give and expect to receive nothing in return. Michael Schratz and Rob Walker argue that “People learn from the experience of being placed in unfamiliar settings,” especially when they are expected to become competent at some task. Disrupting students’ lives can cause learning to happen more rapidly. People are “polyphasic” in their learning, which means that they learn more than one thing at a time. Asking someone to leave the comfort of their own social setting and encounter a new culture or micro-culture amounts to encouraging them to become ethnographic researchers of sorts.

While their “plunge” into the new context can never be complete, since they will always be seen as outsiders at the margins of the culture, they can still take the role of “legitimate peripheral participation” just as ethnographers do. They will notice many small things that are different in the new context in which they have placed themselves. They will have to read people’s facial and body gestures to try to grasp power dynamics between the people they meet and work with. But, upon first exposure, students may not always correctly grasp these things.

Like travelers, they may not know when they have acted inappropriately, been misunderstood, or transgressed defined boundaries, until after it happens. Being put into a new context also challenges our own self-identity, as we notice different things about ourselves than we otherwise would. Students might feel forlorn as they long for more familiar surroundings, but despite their temporary discomfort, real learning can begin to take place.

Schratz and Walker argue that people learn more in “critical incidents”; which are situations that happen to themselves, often connected to loss, and requiring readjustment; than they do under the conditions of their normal routines. While this sounds painful, it can also have a transforming effect, since it requires that people rethink issues central to their lives (33-38). Schratz and Walker explain that students start out service learning from the position of incompetence, unconsciously or consciously. They will hopefully move to competence in the new setting, but likewise, their competence may be conscious (as they struggle to find a way in which to fit in and work), or unconscious (if they just happen to fit in without being quite aware of how).

The authors suggest that service learning should become a collaborative effort between students rather than an individual one. Students need each other to keep one another from tumbling from the heights of idealism and sinking into cynicism. Their attempts at service might lead them to confront the, “emotional warfare, naked ambition, and exploitation found in some volunteer agencies dedicated to radical change” (42). Students naively entering into service work may not be prepared for such possibilities. It is important for students to process these insights together. They need to publicly question the institutions they are working within, themselves, and their teachers. Encouraging them to do so requires that teachers also take risks, but according to the authors, there is no shortcut to learning.

Experience, and group reflection on the experience, is necessary to learning (39-44). David Whitten Smith and Michael Hasl continue in this line of pedagogical thinking by drawing upon Paulo Freire, whose idea of “revolutionary praxis” involves: 1) Changing your world view, 2) Broadening narrow frameworks, and 3) Recognizing people are active agents in history, and becoming one yourself! (55)

They describe the dialectical “circle of praxis” as having four stages. First, there is the personal experience of inserting oneself into a situation of poverty, violence, or injustice. The authors note that students must share with each other their experiences of those who are marginalized, to ensure that such experiences do not simply reinforce stereotypes. Studetns are asked to write out their expectations ahead of time, and then to check their current experiences against their original expectations.

Secondly, they engage in the descriptive analysis of how the culture of the host organization historically and currently operates in its social, economic and political context. This could include the questions: “Who is making the decisions here? Who is benefitting from the decisions? Who is paying the cost?” Students could also ask, “Why does such poverty exist?.Why can’t we organize our society to meet everyone’s basic needs? Is there some larger flaw in our systems that defeats our efforts to organize,” for instance, jobs for all who need them?

Thirdly, they work out a normative analysis of the situation, which identifies the moral values at stake, and imagines how the situation could be changed to be more morally satisfying. The authors suggest assigning students to write a Utopia. They argue that “Utopias help people break out of the ordinary, recognize the damage caused by structures normally taken for granted, and see new possibilities.” After that assignment, students are then asked to write a “Possitopia,” which is a realistically achievable improvement of current reality.

Fourthly, they develop an action plan, which involves identifying the skills, strategies, and policies needed to make the desired transformation. Students should do something constructive to help ameliorate the situation in which they were placed (57-61). Sue Marullo, Mark Lance, and Henry Schwarz argue that service learning is especially important at Jesuit universities.

In 1995, the 34th General Congregation of the Society of Jesus insisted that every Jesuit ministry, including universities, support social justice. This can be done in several ways: “a) direct service and accompaniment of the poor; b) developing an awareness of the demands of justice and the sense of social responsibility necessary to achieve it; and c) participating in social mobilization for the creation of a more just social order.” (48) The Jesuit approach emphasizes how peace and justice depend upon each other.

Positive peace (not just temporary cessation of hostilities) requires social structures that are fundamentally just. Service learning can help students gain insights into the underlying causes of social problems – problems which, when magnified, often lead to war and violence.

Teaching for Justice is filled with practical advice about how to create guidelines, assignments, and evaluations of service learning. Faculty from Georgetown University explain that their senior theses projects in service learning include empirical research, normative reflection, action programs, and conceptual analyses (50).

Robin Crews outlines basic procedural guidelines for his courses in nonviolence and these seem like they would be effective in any course that relies heavily on discussion. Firstly, we must respect each other and therefore agree to disagree. Secondly, we must listen carefully to what others in the class say. (Perhaps the counseling strategy of paraphrasing what we think the other person said, and asking them about our accuracy before responding to their remarks, could help us to be sure that we really did understand the other person’s point). Thirdly, we must seek to understand each other and therefore check our immediate impulse to prove others wrong and ourselves right. Fourthly, we agree not to interrupt others (30).

What can peace studies accomplish? Robin Crews shares his experience as founding executive director of the Peace Studies Association. He admits with seeming dejection that Peace Studies has not even sufficiently affected academia, let alone the world. Financial constraints and reactionary downsizing have resulted in dwindling support for such programs (24-5). His concerns were echoed throughout the book.

Faculty at Georgetown University note that they constantly face the problem of limited resources and challenges to the academic legitimacy of their programs (52). Faculty at Roehampton Institute note that colleagues often think of service learning as “lightweight, soft-headed, or escapist” (103). With these kinds of financial and ideological attacks leveled against Peace Studies, it is a wonder that we still have opportunities to teach Peace Studies. And, yet, the need for courses such as these has not diminished.

The expansion of the military budget and increase in interventionary wars is rather an indication that peaceful alternatives are being neglected, and that they are now more needed than ever. With the increase in the military budget comes a decrease in funds for programs to help our nation’s poor, and hence, also, a need for more volunteers. As poverty increases there are more opportunities for students to witness first-hand the suffering of others and to be of service to them, while simultaneously reflecting on the social conditions which foster such disparities in distribution of wealth.

Peace Studies courses, tailored as service learning courses, are therefore especially imperative at this point. The authors of this collection have charted helpful road maps, and the strength of these essays lies in the careful attention given to the stages of emotion and insight through which students pass during their service learning experiences. The guidelines provided on how teachers can shape assignments so as to avoid common pitfalls are also particularly valuable to the beginning teacher.

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Book Reviews CPP Newsletter Online V23

Orizio’s Talk of the Devil by John Kultgen

Kultgen, John (Univ. of Missouri – Columbia). “Harder the Fall?: A Review of Ricardo Orizio’s Talk of the Devil: Encounters with Seven Dictators. Trans. Avril Bardoni. NY: Walker & Co., 2003.”; CPP Newsletter Vol. 23, Nos. 1-2 (Spring-Fall 2003).

Interviews with seven deposed autocrats are the substance of this work. “I deliberately chose those [tyrants] who had fallen from power in disgrace,” writes author Ricardo Orizio, “because those who fall on their feet tend not to examine their own conscience.” In his introduction he asks, “What goes through the mind of someone who has had everything, lost everything and has time to start again? How does a one-time dictator, whom the history books describe as ruthless, immoral and power-crazed, grow old? What does he tell his children and grandchildren about himself? What does he tell himself?”

Unfortunately, the responses of the interviewees are sketchy and do not answer either these questions, or many others, that we would have liked Orizio to ask. The accidental nature of the sample he has put together makes it risky to draw lessons from it, and he avoids doing so. He simply provides the cases and lets the reader learn from them. In what follows, I will suggest, however, that a few generalizations might be drawn from this work. They would, however, need to be tested by reflection on further examples of modern autocratic rule before they could be accepted.

First, here’s a list of the dictators with whom Orizio spoke:

Idi Amin Dada, Uganda (I971-1979), was deposed by Tanzania after a failed invasion of that country. He was given refuge as a Muslim by Gaddafi in Libya and then granted permission to stay Saudi Arabia on an “extended pilgrimage.” He lived comfortably with his family in Jeddah on a stipend provided by the Saudi government until his death in August 2003. At the time of the interview he was still dreaming of a return to power — and this even though he is accused of killing up to 300,000 people during his reign and committing acts of personal barbarism such as presiding over the execution of enemies and eating their flesh.

Jean-Bedel Bokassa, Central African Republic (1966-1979), was first installed and then deposed by the French. He is accused of killing up to 100,000 of his subjects and, like Amin, engaging in acts of barbarism and cannibalism. He was prosecuted, convicted, imprisoned and condemned to death and subsequently pardoned by new government of Central Africa. He continued to live in the capitol city Bangui until his death in 1996. Although he was a Muslim, he claimed that the pope had anointed him as the Thirteenth Apostle during his reign. He evidently wore the white robes of a saint for his interview with Orizio.

Wojciech Jaruzelski, Poland (1981-1990), who, as premier of his country, declared martial law and attempted to suppress Solidarity, claiming that these measures were necessary to prevent Soviet intervention during collapse of the Eastern bloc. He was voted out of office in a free election. He lives in Warsaw on a government pension as former head of state. He has successfully defended himself against prosecution on a charge that he ordered troops to fire on demonstrators during a time of unrest.

Enver and Nexhmije Hoxha, Albania (1944-1984), ruled over a tightly regimented closed society for four decades until Enver retired due to ill health. He died in 1985. The pair ruthlessly suppressed opposition and kept Albania isolated from the world, including other communist countries. Nexhmije now lives modestly in Tirana, sternly guarding the memory of her husband and their reign together.

Jean-Claude (Baby Doc) Duvalier, Haiti (1971-1986), was installed as President for Life at age 19 by his ailing father, Papa Doc. He was ill-suited to rule, even dictatorially, and during his time in power was dominated by his wife Michele and her associates. With the assistance of Tonton Macoute, they continued the Papa Doc’s practices of suppressing opposition and looting the country, and were eventually ousted by the mulatto elite of Haiti with help from US. Duvalier now lives comfortably in southern France on what is left of his fortune and has a new wife. He trusts that either exiled supporters, or voodoo gods, will return him to power.

Mengistu Haile-Mariam, Ethiopia (1974-1991) came to power in a military coup. He is rumored to have personally strangled Haile Selasse, and attempted, with the assistance of the USSR, to put an end to feudal tribalism and create a rigorous socialist state. Unwise wars with Eritrea and Somalia and failure to provide relief during a catastrophic drought led to death of hundreds of thousands. These were the result of over-extending his powers and of mismanagement, rather than of a genuine effort to suppress opposition, though he attempted that as well. He was deposed by another coup when USSR collapsed, and since he had not amassed a personal fortune, he now lives modestly in exile in Harare, Zimbabwe.

Slobadan Milosevic and Mira Markovic, Yugoslavia/Serbia, (1989-2000). Slobadan was a banker who was pushed into politics by his professor wife Mira, a dogmatic Marxist sociologist. It is not clear whether the couple was motivated more by ideology, power, or the desire to enrich themselves. He was deposed by the Serbs themselves after the NATO response to ethnic cleansing in Bosnia and Kosovo and is being tried for crimes against humanity in The Hague. Mira continues to be politically active in Belgrade.

In each of the chapters of the work, Orizio first describes his efforts to arrange the interviews, then reviews some of the details of the dictator’s reign, summarizes the interviews themselves, and reports the testimony of others connected with the subjects. The portion of the narratives devoted to each of these varies. Large portions of the chapters on Idi Amin and Mira Markovic are devoted to the author’s difficulty in catching up with his subjects. In the case of Hoxha and Milosevic, Orizio had to settle for interviews with the wives rather than the front men, though the wives had been deeply involved in their husbands’ activities and were plausible surrogates.

The interviews themselves occupy only a few pages and most are not very informative, even when the subjects (e.g. Bokassa, Mengitsu) happened to be garrulous. Amin could not be brought to talk about his atrocities or even his grandiose gestures when in power, though he displayed a hearty and jovial personality and seemed well thought of by those in Saudi Arabia who knew him. Bokassa appeared to Orizio to be mentally ill, while Jaruzelski, Hoxha, and Markovic gave the impression of being austere and defensive, but still willing to debate ideology, at least on a superficial level. Mengitsu was evidently somewhat more loquacious, but still neither particularly revealing nor penitent in any way. Finally, Duvalier’s present wife, Veronique, seems to have dominated the conversation which Orizio had with him, and hence relatively little important information seems to have been revealed in this case as well.

As far as any sort of examination of conscience goes, it is hardly surprising that most of the deposed autocrats deny they did anything wrong. Not only do they not indulge much in self-examination or critical reflections about their pasts, but they claim that, if they used harsh measures, it was for the good of their country, and also that they lost power not because they abused it, but because they were betrayed by disloyal friends, overwhelmed by circumstances, or defeated by unscrupulous enemies. Several were still under the illusion that they would be returned to power by loyal supporters – and, among these, Amin and Duvalier expected that such a change in their circumstances was imminent.

Naturally, deposed despots are not happy with their present circumstances. But they consistently deny that the course they chose when they ruled was responsible for their condition. They only remember the joys of absolute power and want it back, and express no regrets, but only anger at the tides of fortune and the perfidy of their enemies. Plato’s contention that absolute tyrants are made miserable by their insatiable appetites and lack of reliable friends appears, at first read, to be confirmed by testimony of these individuals – until one reflects on the fact that they are thoroughly deluded about their current life circumstances, the causes of their being deposed, and their ability to regain a hold on the power they once had. They enjoyed power and the wealth it brings and now they miss it – once again, the matter seems entirely straightforward until the reader realizes the level of self-deception and delusion that colors their present states of mind. And, unfortunately, it is this question that Orizio has not addressed — either in the context of his interviews with these people, or independently of them. It is perhaps equally unsettling to think that many of the rest of us might feel and act in a similarly unreflective fashion given the opportunity – and Orizio also does not, unfortunately, extract from his conversations with these “devils” any relevant lessons on this, either.

The talents of self-deception, pretense and rationalization seem to be as strong in deposed dictators as they are in those still in power. In fact, the acts of self-deception and deceiving others, respectively, seem to be interrelated in a sort of vicious cycle leading to ever greater perversity. In other words, the practice of self-deception further enhances the skills these people already possess with regard to deceiving others. Once they had control of the instruments of propaganda, all of them enjoyed ardent support of privileged groups under their rule and at least the passive acquiescence, if not loyal support of the public. Only the European tyrants (in Poland, Albania, and Yugoslavia) were deposed by anything like a popular uprising — and this only after a systemic collapse had occurred elsewhere (in the Soviet Union and Eastern Bloc). In Africa and Haiti, they were deposed either by neighbors (in Uganda, by Tanzania) or internal factions with the aid of outsiders (in Central Africa, by the French; in Haiti, by the Americans).

One thing which the author did which may be questionable was to lump those dictators driven by ideology, or at least those using it as a cover (Jaruzelski, Hoxha, Mengistu, and to a lesser degree Milosevic) together with brutal thugs interested only in power, wealth, self-indulgence, megalomania, and cruelty (Amin, Bokassa, Duvalier). It was particularly inappropriate to include Jaruzelski with the rest. He makes a good case that he did the best he could for his nation under impossible conditions, and claims that if he made mistakes, they were indeed mistakes, not cynical maneuvers for the purpose of self-aggrandizement. Mengistu might claim this for himself, as might Hoxha and Milosevic, much less persuasively; whereas, the most Amin, Bokassa and Duvalier could claim is that their countries are not significantly better off now than when they were under their rule.

The thought that these addicts of power were all deposed, some sooner, some later, provides little consolation for the horrors they inflicted. In fact, several of them were replaced by others like them and many parts of the world are still under the rule of their peers.

If there is a lesson to be draws from Orizio’s work, it is that merely deposing dictators does not institute democracy, law and order, or even a modicum of justice. In those countries where there is a tradition of citizen detachment from the political process, the instruments of power will simply be passed on to individuals who are equally diabolical – and they will continue to use them to suppress rivals by brutal means and ensure that they control a protection racket with which to exploit the populace.

Orizio’s work also reveals that it makes a great deal of difference whether those who acquire rule are hired guns (Amin, Bokassa, Mengitsu), heirs to power (Duvalier), or products of the bureaucracy and its ideology (Hoxha, to an extent Milosevic and Jaruzelski). In other words, their origins seem to affect both the way they rule and how they are deposed. But, once again, there is, unfortunately, not enough in the author’s accounts of these individuals to justify further comment on these important matters.

The work is an easy read and can be absorbed over a weekend. Its loose organization makes for variety and also adds an element of spontaneity and depth. The narratives give a sense of what it is like to be a journalist in pursuit of elusive quarries — and then to have to determine how exactly to deal with them once one has caught up with them.

The author is sometimes sketchy with dates, so one has to consult other sources to determine the exact chronology of the events he is describing. The various chapters of the book seem to be arranged in the sequence in which the interviews took place.

Talk of the Devil is anecdotal rather than analytical or philosophical. However, it provides some substance for reflection on the uses and abuses of power, and is therefore devoting some time to.

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Articles CPP Newsletter Online V23

World Events and Responses by William Gay

Gay, William (Univ. of North Carolina – Charlotte). "World Events and Philosophical Responses: My Years Editing the CPP Newsletter 1987-2002." CPP Newsletter Vol. 23, Nos. 1-2 (Spring-Fall 2003).

Over the last sixteen years, violent conflicts have been prominent globally. Too often, USA military forces have been involved. Fortunately, philosophers have regularly responded with critical assessments. During the time I have served as editor of CPP Newsletter, we have addressed Operation Just Cause in Panama; Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm in Iraq; issues of genocide and humanitarian intervention in Bosnia and Somalia, Haiti, and Kosovo; the India-Pakistan nuclear arms race; the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001; and the subsequent “war on terrorism” that has already resulted in the USA’s military overthrow of governments in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Between 1987 and 2002, the CPP newsletter spanned volumes 7-22 and published nearly 100 articles, over two dozen book reviews, and a dozen bibliographies for a total of almost 600 pages that include seven special issues. From 1987 through 1992, each issue was 16 pages (32 pages a year). Beginning in 1993, the newsletter increased to 20 pages per issue (40 pages a year) with Judith Presler serving as Book Review Editor. Now, she and I are turning the newsletter over to Greg Moses, Wendy Hamblet, and Deb Peterson. They are a talented team, and we wish them all the best.

Our organization began in 1981, and from 1981 through 1986, Stephen Anderson edited the newsletter. CPP has now been operating for 22 years and is a well-established professional organization. Besides our newsletter, we have an annual meeting, sessions at the divisional meetings of the APA (see notice of upcoming sessions in this newsletter), and the Philosophy of Peace (POP) Special Series that is published by Rodopi. The POP books and other CPP volumes published by Longwood and Rowman & Littlefield already total ten books, and the number is climbing. During 2003, I served as Co-Editor of POP along with Joe Kunkel, who previously was the sole editor. Beginning in 2004, I will become the sole editor of POP. For this reason, I am leaving my post as newsletter editor. I have enjoyed being able to publish timely issues of the newsletter in which professional philosophers respond to world events with critical acumen, passion, and eloquence.

Given my involvement with CPP since 1981, I was invited to write a history of our organization. This history has been published as “Concerned Philosophers For Peace (CPP)” in the Global Studies Encyclopedia, eds. I.I. Mazour, A.N. Chumakov, and W.C. Gay (Moscow: Raduga, 2003), pp. 80-82. Access is also available on the web: go to <http://www.uncc.edu/wcgay/pubcpp.htm&gt;. For those of you who are new to the organization, this history may provide a useful introduction. I am very proud of the accomplishments of CPP. While I am ending my service as newsletter editor, I will remain just as involved in the organization. I think having new editors for the newsletter will add to the strength of the organization. Greg, Wendy, and Deb have my strong endorsement and my best wishes. I look forward to their continuation of the contributions of the newsletter, to their innovations, and to our on-going critical examination of some of the most crucial issues facing humanity.

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CPP News CPP Newsletter Online V23

CPP News by Gail Presbey (2003)

Presbey, Gail (Univ. of Detroit-Mercy). "CPP News." CPP Newsletter Vol. 23, Nos. 1-2 (Spring-Fall 2003).

Although there were two nominations for president at the 2003 business meeting, both have since withdrawn their candidacies. Please submit nominations via e-mail by Dec. 15 to CPP Executive Director Gail Presbey: presbegm at udmercy dot edu

Treasurer’s report, Jerry Richards: CPP operating budget account has $4,884.88. This is the account out of which comes the funds to pay for the newsletter. We have around 64 dues paying members. The account is in good shape, with dues covering basic expenses. Rodopi PoP budget: $343.92.

New Treasurer: Jerry Richards is retiring from his university at the end of this academic year. So, the Executive Committee met and decided upon a new treasurer, who has agreed to serve. That person is Dave Boersema, and we are grateful for his taking on this important position. Dave will take over from Jerry on Jan. 1, 2004.

Next conference: University of North Carolina at Charlotte will host the next CPP conference. The theme is: “Globalization and its discontents: Implications for War, Peace, and Justice.” Subthemes include: competing definitions of globalization; the rich-poor dichotomy; NAFTA: U.S. – U.N. relations; Global ethics; movements against globalization; world music and culture.

Also, members should be thinking about whether they would like to host the next CPP conference in 2005 at their university.

Website: Dave Koukal has agreed to be CPP webmaster. He will be working on updating the CPP website.

PoP series with VIBS and Rodopi: Starting Jan. 1, 2004, Bill Gay will be the editor in charge, and both Joe Kunkel and Judith Presler will be assistant editors.

Papers from last year’s conference (2002, Walsh University) will be combined with papers from this year into a Rodopi PoP volume. The co-editors are Wendy Hamblet and Gail Presbey.

CPP at APA: Laura Duhan Kaplan has organized two CPP panels for the Eastern APA: one on War, Religion and Ethics; and one on World Federalism.

Ron Hirschbein is organizing a panel for the CPP at the Pacific Division; and Harry van der Linden is working on a panel for the Central Division. See the preview on page 15.

–News submitted by Gail Presbey, CPP Exec. Dir.

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Articles CPP Newsletter Online V23

Two Scholarly Ideas by Jan Narveson

Narveson, Jan (Univ. of Waterloo, CANADA). "Two Scholarly Ideas for Peace in the Middle East." CPP Newsletter Vol. 23, Nos. 1-2 (Spring-Fall 2003).

We were, it seems, somewhere within sight of the road to peace in the Middle East – and then, as so often in the past, more bombs went off and things now look difficult again. Is there a way to get the process back into motion for real? I have two ideas about this.

One: There must be people on both sides interested in trying to get at the truth about the events, especially in the mid-twentieth century, that led up to the terrible standoff that has so long obtained between who we now call the “Palestinians”, together with the neighboring Arab people, and the Israelis.

My idea is that an informal commission be established, with an equal number (exactly equal) of Palestinians (or other Arabic scholars?) and Israeli scholars (or other Jewish scholars?), and an approximately (but not necessarily) equal number of “others”, who should be from places perceived as neutral, if there are any left (the Netherlands? Canada? Brazil?). What this committee would do is engage in much laborious research to sift through the evidence about disputed aspects of important events.

For example, approximately how many (if any) Arabic people were actually forced from their homes by the onset of modern Israel? Were international boundaries violated, and if so, by whom, and what was their claimed justification for doing so? Did anyone, in the war, commit what can incontrovertibly be regarded as “massacres”? And so on. My suggestion is that the people doing this research would be trying, sincerely, to reach agreement about the facts; and if that should prove impossible, to reach agreement about why and precisely where they disagree, and what would be needed to resolve the disagreement.

After quite a lot of such work, or even perhaps periodically as it proceeded, when agreement was reached, this should be publicized, in hopes of encouraging people, who have biased their attitudes toward one or the other “side”, to abandon misconceptions that have been proven mistaken. Possibly this could do quite a lot of good in the way of enabling people to look to the future with a better information base. I also suggest that this committee’s work be funded entirely by non-governmental sources, and secondly by people, again in preferably just about equal amounts, from both sides (with further funding from neutral sources far away, perhaps including Americans.) Perhaps in America, a sort of financial overseeing committee can be set up to enable funds to be secured from both the Arabic and the Jewish communities, again in equal amounts. All the funding, of course, should be handled in such a way that no contributor can expect that research supporting his side of the controversy will be favored.

Two: The cost of the ongoing confrontation, to both the Israeli and the Arabic people in the area, must be tremendous. It would be useful to be able to put real dollar figures on this. To that end, I would again propose a smaller committee, made up of economists from both sides, to make credible estimates of just how much wealthier people on both sides would have been had they been able to live at peace and have normal economic relations all these years.

Even if we just begin with the first year of the Intifada, the figures are surely enormous, probably staggering. People ought to know this. They ought to know that continued support, or even toleration, or those who engage in violence is not free. It costs people jobs and livings, as well as lives. Both of these more or less scholarly type endeavours could, I think, do a lot to promote peace in the Middle East.

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Murderous Dichotomies by Wendy Hamblet

Hamblet, Wendy (Adelphi Univ.) “Murderous Dichotomies: Exposing the Logic of Violence.” CPP Newsletter Vol. 23, Nos. 1-2 (Spring-Fall 2003).

Most people would agree that the murder of one’s own kind is an evil act. Yet the history of humankind on earth stands as overwhelming proof that people somehow have always managed, and still today continue to manage, to stomach perpetrating such “evil” acts upon others of their species without even the risk of bad conscience. And contrary to facile understandings of violence, very few cases of radical evil involve the least degree of sadistic pleasure for the agent. These stark simultaneous facts—that murder continues to happen, but people do not suffer bad conscience, nor do they enjoy murdering—suggests a well-evolved ability, developed throughout the millennia of human time on earth, that enables perpetrators to redefine their “evil” acts as “otherwise than evil.”

Scholars of diverse disciplines direct their research toward unraveling the mystery of understanding the continuing violence in a world that pretends the loftiest of ideals of peace and justice and human community. Clearly an immense gap divides the lofty intentions and ideals of human beings from the bare facts of bloody history; a history that, despite our increasing understanding of the forces that propel and legitimate violence, has only grown bloodier over time.

Plenty of reasons have been discovered to explain why societies have grown more violent over the last century—the alienating effects of modern industrial societies, the breakdown of family values, and even, in many minds, the erosion of religious values (a questionable factor since religious nations, including those of the “enlightened” West, tend to be the most violent societies in the world). Violence increases over time, concomitantly with another growing reality—the gap between rich and poor. The disparity between the living standards in rich Western nations and those in Third World countries gapes wider every year. Even within the rich Western nations, more people fall below the poverty line each year. These economic free-falls across the globe create pockets of frustration and resentment that linger in festering bitterness until they finally manifest themselves in violent outbursts.

The fact that Just War Theory exists to guide leaders in their assessment of the rightness or wrongness of conflicts proves that many people find some forms of communal violence legitimate, and others illegitimate. This demonstrates that there must exist some mysterious way of thinking about intraspecies murder that permits us to see it as sometimes fair and just. Under certain historical conditions, then, people must find it possible to redefine murder as good, or at least as the best available option.

Peace activists refuse to go that far, holding that no war can be just. To take up mass murder, even as a tool against another evil, is to join the ranks of the enemy and betray one’s moral reasons for action. Martin Luther King, Jr., neatly articulates the paradox that gives rise to the peace activist’s insight: “Nations engage in the madness of war without the slightest sense of penitence. The murder of a citizen of your own nation is a crime but the murder of citizens of another nation in war is an act of heroic virtue.” Philosophers tend to focus upon definitions, so this redefining that turns murder from a crime to a heroic virtue, when the “face” of the victim changes, is a source of discomfiting fascination. And wars, over the last century, have increasingly targeted the “faces” of innocent civilians, with less and less concern for the growing number of civilian casualties, and more and more impunity for the officials that sanction those deaths.

We don’t do body counts,” states General Tommy Franks of the USA military. More and more it becomes crucial that philosophers seek to clarify and illuminate the logic that permits this redefinition to occur. It is essential that we understand how the very symbols by which we understand self and world come to be ordered such that these redefinitions permit conscience-free murder. How is it that people find themselves capable of defining the same act as, in the one case, criminal, and in the other, heroic?

Anthropologists, those students of human truth, have been exceedingly instrumental in helping us to understand how violences were justified in the dawn of human time. Walter Burkert, René Girard, and a host of other experts on human culture, religion and violence, tell us that the first human communities made sense of their environments by employing violence as an important ordering mechanism. Early hominoids ordered their chaotic and threatening worlds by positing “dual containers” into which they sorted the confusing empirical data of their experiences: friend/ foe; good/ evil; divine/ demonic and so on. One container for the nice experiences, the other for the threatening.

The logic that ordered the symbols was simple—help friends and murder enemies. When something new appeared on the horizon of the lifeworld, something unknown that could not readily be embraced within the comfortable understandings of the community, it would be placed in the “evil” container to be dealt with through ritual violence—murder sacrifice, metaphorical murder of torture, or expulsion from the community. The communal murder of some visibly different other (the village idiot, the physically deformed, an unlucky stranger—anyone who is both inside and yet an outsider, without social resources to avenge his death) brought conflicted parties within the social group together. Murder, when shared by the entire community, could be a very unifying and consolidating event.

This archaic method of making sense of the world and ordering the group proved most effective, providing the community with what Walter Burkert calls a “common mental world,” and so it came to be repeated at any time that the community fell into social chaos. Over time, the murder ritual evolved to serve the manifold functions of communal life, eventually spawning the full spectrum of prohibitions and prescriptions that composed the legal, political, economic and social customs and institutions that structured the lifeworld of the social group. The symbols were simple: what was not ours (good) was alien and threatening (evil). And the logic ordering the symbols was simple: help friends and murder enemies. The symbols and logic, tell the experts on violence, remained constant over time, conveyed and reinforced from generation to generation through repetition of the murder rituals. Over millennia in the early history of the human species, these rituals were pervasive.

Though intelligent people today have overcome the tendency toward oversimplified, radically polarized understandings of self and world, at a very deep level of our being, in our assumptions about right and wrong, good and evil, that tendency remains a latent potentiality. Thus there lingers the constant danger that, during times of social upheaval, people may revert to this archaic way of making sense of the confusing data of experience. This is largely because this logic very effectively serves a double benefit: it renders the chaotic starkly clear and simple, making reality easy to understand, with no thinking necessary. Easy sortings of phenomena into “good” and “evil” illuminates the source of social chaos for easy murder, even as it simultaneously purifies the community of responsibility and guilt by projecting the chaos at work within the community onto alien (and usually defenseless) others.

In my curiosity to discover how popular the two containers remain, how many people still revert to simple dichotomies as a way of making sense of the world, I went to the world wide web and searched the phrase “two kinds of people.” I got 2,018,504 “hits.” Many of these, as the anthropologists of violence have asserted, are consistent with a “religious worldview.” It seems St. Paul uses the simple dichotomy to understand the human struggle against sin. How one manages this struggle gives rise to two possible courses of life to be lived. St. Augustine posits two kinds of people according to two kinds of love, giving rise to two kinds of communities, (the good heavenly city and its evil earthly counterpart). Then there was what I will call the more “Protestant” dichotomy of two kinds of human beings—the hard-working, honest and reliable, and those others who are shiftless and worthless. Then there was the distinction between “spiritual seekers” and “domestic cleaners.” Apparently, people are seeking something to fulfill their spiritual needs, and then, once they feel they have found something fulfilling, they spend their energies cleaning and polishing it. Another dichotomy separates the world into those the god talks to and those he does not. The former group splits again into the Jerry Falwells, the Oral Roberts’s and the Pat Robertsons, over against the paranoid schizophrenics (though I am not convinced that the latter is a legitimate split).

Then some people split the world into the have’s from the have-nots; that one I found particularly convincing. Others see the world as a dichotomy between those motivated by freedom and those motivated by security, reminiscent of the famed article by Jonathan Z. Smith, separating people into the adventurous and fearless (the Greeks are the example cited), and those shivering behind the walls of their fortressed cities and practicing elaborate war rituals (like the Babylonians). One wonders whether the choice of examples does not reflect an ethnocentric bias, since the Hellenic ancestors of the Western imperialist spirit, though a culture equally lush in war ritual, come out ahead as colonial heroes rather than butcherous and fearful barbarians Despite the remarkable number of “hits,” some dichotomies didn’t make the list. Peace activists, for example, make a distinction between those with actual intelligence and those with “military” intelligence, those who support just war and those who just support war, those who love freedom and those who love their freedom, and those who believe in the right of free speech over against those who believe in free speech until someone says something they don’t like.

So it would seem that even in the rational, scientific, allegedly secular modern world, the employment of simple dichotomies reminiscent of the archaic worldview remains extremely popular as a means of making simple sense of a disordered world. Simple polar dichotomies have in fact risen in popularity in the past year and a half, triggered, as always, by a chaotic event—the September 11th crisis. They have, in fact, been publicly promoted because they have proven highly politically functional in the chaotic aftermath of the crisis, giving terrified people a quick and easy way of making sense of their threatened world, while conveniently dispensing with the usual need for rational inquiry and debate.

The popular dichotomy began with Mr. Bush’s war cry to his people and the world: “you’re either with us or against us.” The cry soon morphed into a more demonizing form: “you’re either with us or you’re with the terrorists.” This logical tactic was so quickly popularized that it soon spawned the grander dichotomy that took the form of a conflict of civilizations—America as the “beacon of freedom and opportunity” over against an “axis of evil”—a move that, in one fell swoop, posited the USA as an innocent victim over against the dark and hazy world of terrorism, focused in three “evil” geographical locations. This new dichotomous worldview effectively alienated a large mass of the world’s population. In reality, however, it attempts to posit a cosmic truth, as does any worldview—the enlightened, scientific, rational, democratic, freedom-loving West over against a decadent, backward, poor, repressed, ignorant uncivilized otherness—mostly an Arab otherness, but the Koreans could be thrown in for good measure, (though the Koreans make a less functional scapegoat since their murder doesn’t pay off in any coveted treasures and they are not without those “familial resources” that would mitigate against the assurance of murder without reprisal).

Despite the thousands of Afghani civilians sacrificed to the cause of vengeance, the good crusaders failed to “get their man” in the caves of Afghanistan. Now, through some wondrous miracle of conceptual fraud, a new demonic face has replaced that of Bin Ladin, and this has permitted a new war to be launched by the avenging forces of good. The dust has barely cleared from the cluster bombs that ravaged Afghanistan and the corpses of their innocent civilians have barely been laid to rest, when a new war against a new evil has spawned a new dichotomy: “You’re either with the war against Iraq or you’re against the USA troops.” This too is an utterly false dichotomy. Putting aside the fact that the voices who are now calling for “support of the troops” are the same as those who knowingly and in conscience-free fashion exposed previous Gulf War troops to deadly depleted uranium, it is clear that those who really are concerned about the welfare of the troops would remove them from the way of physical and moral harm, by removing them from the site of a dangerous, illegal and unjust war.

However, rational arguments count for little with terrorized people, and the American people, constantly bombarded with red and orange alerts and panicked warnings of anthrax and other threats, have been kept in a state of terror since September 11, 2001. So it has been easy for the powers manipulating their fears to keep them locked in the oversimplified, radically polarized worldview that continues to legitimate murder rituals by carving up reality into two neat little parcels—the good guys and the evil others. It seems that Oscar Wilde was right when he said: “There are two kinds of people—those who think there are two kinds of people, and those who don’t.” For people who believe there are only two kinds of people, chances are that one of those “kinds” comes up acceptable, and the other comes up wanting. Such dichotomies remain faithful to archaic conceptualizations of world and continue to convey a logic that legitimates the murder of alien others from a position of purified belongingness.

The fact is that the convenient dichotomy of pure good over against pure evil is refuted by everyday experience. Evil is an altogether common event but it rarely arrives on the earthly scene unmixed with the good; even the gods are busy perpetrating “natural evils” in earthquakes, floods, aging, disease, and death. Human evil can occur in the best of families, as the overzealous parenting and the overbearing control that manifests itself in physical and emotional scars. And evil can show up in the best of nations under the sacred rubric of patriotism and national security. Terrorism and racism, imperialisms and fascisms can take deep root in a culture that sees its innocence under attack by evil others. Add a vengeful god into the logical mix and you have a recipe for conscience-free massacre.

Evil can hardly be separated, let alone purified, from the human condition. In fact, that little of evil that is avoidable generally comes about as a result of the moralizing gesture that demonizes difference in order to purify those spaces of innocence. The language and the logic of demonic contamination are very, very old, very insidious, and very seductive. They creep into our psyches when we are feeling most vulnerable and point the bloody way to order and security, while assuring the purification of the moralizer.

The first step toward breaking the false dichotomy of good versus evil and frustrating the consequent, moralizing gesture, comes with the classic philosophical move of self-examination—locating the sources of evil in the ambiguities of the self and in the sites of its deepest loyalties. It is difficult to remain self-righteous and moralizing toward others once one is exposed to the fact of one’s own morally ambiguous histories. And all people, all families, all villages and nations, no matter how elaborate their myths of innocence, have skeletons in their historical closets. Exposure of those dark secrets can be humbling to the individual and to the social group.

At this point in history, when the logic of the demonic other has found such ready reception in the hearts of so many Americans, stoking the fires of an unhealthy patriotism and rallying the god behind wars of revenge, it is important that voices within the academy not fall prey to the demonizing rhetoric, and take seriously their duty to their students—to supply them with a language and a conceptual framework that will allow reason rather than terrorized emotion to configure their thinking about current affairs. Recent histories of American foreign policy serve well this humbling rethinking of American myths of innocence. Many voices of conscience, from Noam Chomsky to Howard Zinn have been warning that America’s moral high ground has long been eroding. John Stockwell, high ranking CIA official turned critic-informant, has publicly exposed what he calls the CIA’s “War against the Third World,” one of the bloodiest and goriest wars in history directed at the poor peasants of Third World countries.

The dirty wars and covert actions that have, for more than five decades, been supporting American big business interests in the Third World through the most despicable of means (funding and training death squads, hiring Mafia and Nazis for secret assassination plots, payrolling drug lords for decades, deposing democratically elected leaders, and massacring its people if they attempted to nationalize their own resources) has eroded world confidence in American “innocence.” This “War against the Third World” has thus far taken the lives of over six million people from every continent of the globe, but its costs have been far greater than a corpse count can indicate: it has damaged American prestige in the world, it has cost global confidence in the purity of American intentions, it has cost the trust and admiration of friends and allies and, now, it has undermined the viability of the United Nations to effectively deal with global injustices.

One might wonder how is it that Americans have managed to maintain their myths of purity while the facts of their dirty dealings in the Third World have been coming to the fore in world news for decades—in the exposure of the Tonkin Bay fraud, the My Lai massacre, the Church Committee of 1987, and now the depleted uranium scandal of the first Gulf War? There is an easy answer to this mystery: the powers that have stood behind those dirty wars are aligned with the powers that control the media. Together they have kept the people distracted by keeping national attention focused—on the sins of others.

The average American knows well every blow by blow account of the O. J. Simpson trial, every illicit sexual encounter in the Oval Office. But she knows little of the ties between Reagan, Bush and the infamous drug lord Noriega, jailed in the USA for having the audacity to turn upon the hand that fed him and entertain southern leaders that sought to limit American interests in their nations’ affairs and resources.

The current invasion of Iraq may look like a new confrontation triggered by a new demon, radical Islamic terrorism. However, the present war has distinct consistencies with the string of atrocities committed in the name of murdering similar convenient demons in the Congo, Vietnam, Laos, Campuccia, Chile, Nicaragua, Iran, Panama, and, my personal favorite of the horror stories, Guatemala.

The new dichotomy of “beacon of freedom and opportunity” over against an “axis of evil” is also not so new. It stems from a much older dichotomy, one that served the CIA well in rallying support for their bloody schemes, since the end of World War II. This is another utterly false dichotomy that has yet to receive the scholarly attention it deserves, largely because historians of American history continue to teach purified forms of American “history” that keeps the seductive dichotomy intact and so its dangerous symbols grow more and more rooted every year, even in the academy.

The older dichotomy claims that there are two kinds of communities, based on two kinds of economic logic–capitalist and communist. Capitalism is associated with freedom, democracy, wealth, decent living conditions and enlightenment, while communism is associated with Russia and Stalin and oppression and torture and general poverty. This dichotomy served American (business) interests well. But demonizing communism served an important function: it purified the meaning of capitalism. Capitalism became the epitome of all good, free things over against its evil repressive opponent.

This too is an utterly false dichotomy. Not simply because we have never witnessed true communism instituted in the world, but because communism is not the antithesis of democracy; communism and capitalism compose two forms of “democratic” institution (from the Greek demos, the people, and kratein, to rule—that is, rule by the people). One could argue that communism, could it be effectively instituted, would be more democratic and more free than capitalism, since capitalism invariably signifies a hierarchy of wealth where inequalities compose the very structure of the system, and where the many struggle without adequate shares in the “common wealth” of the nation, one can hardly call a people free.

The myth that capitalism ensures freedom remains forcefully and functionally intact to maintain the false dichotomy of capitalism versus communism in the minds of many Westerners. However, capitalism is no guarantee of freedom for the people under its thrall—not economic freedom for the mass of people, not political freedom (as was made clear in America’s last presidential [s]election); not legal freedom (or the POW’s of Guantanamo Bay would be protected by their rights under the Geneva Conventions to receive humane treatment); not freedom from racial prejudice (or 12,000 Arabs would not have been detained September 12th without due process and without due cause beyond their racial profile); not freedom to speak, meet, act, express difference of opinion, enjoy right to privacy (or the freedom-defining amendments to the constitution would not be under attack by the Patriot Act).

Capitalism is not dedicated to the freedom of people; it is dedicated to the freedom of capital, the freedom of big business. Capital is freest when it moves about without obstruction, unencumbered by the pesky concerns of human rights (decent wages and conditions for workers), or national rights to ownership or ecological safeguards. Capital flows more freely when rules and regulations, taxes and tariffs don’t impede its flow. And where does it flow? The route is clear: capital travels from the poorest of the poor countries, to the richest of the rich countries, stopping en route to reward the leaders of each who protect its flow.

I have just repeated another dichotomy: I have posited rich Western nations over against poor Third World countries. This too is an utterly false dichotomy. Third World countries are not poor; they are rich in resources, a reality proven by the fact of their colonial rape in centuries past, and their continuing neocolonial rape in the global economy. The fact that big business is interested in them at all shows that it is not the countries that are poor. It is the people of those countries that are poor, because their countries’ resources and their labor potential are being strip-mined by rich Western corporations. This is happening because there are no safeguards protecting ecological and human interests; all the safeguards governing world trade are directed toward the free flow of capital, not the interests of those without capital.

It is our task as educators, as parents, and as responsible citizens of a country where, at least for now, we can continue to speak freely, to break these false dichotomies and help our young wards to develop an alternative language and a healthier conceptual framework that will enable them to think more rationally about current affairs. We must help them to understand the true roots of terrorism, not in the demonized religions of foreigners, but in the frustration and humiliation and the hopeless poverty effected by the neocolonial stranglehold of Western corporate hegemony.

Wherever people’s lives are rendered unlivable, there festers a hotbed that breeds religious fundamentalism, which preaches martyrdom, holy war, and death to infidels for the price of a better world for their children and the heavenly rewards of a transcendental gift system that promises greater justice than its earthly counterpart. If we want to break the cycles of violence that now engulf the globe, it is crucial that we expose the real cause of terrorism, the huge gap between the have’s and the have-not’s of this world, instead of rallying terrorism to increase that gap and justify the big business of war against demonized others.

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CPP News CPP Newsletter Online Past Conferences V11.2

CfP: CPP Fifth National Conference

Newsletter of the Concerned Philosophers for Peace, Vol. 11.2 (Fall 1991)

The fifth annual conference of the Concerned Philosophers for Peace will be held in Charlotte, NC on October 16-18, 1992. The theme of the conference is “Power and Domination.” Papers which reflect the conference theme are strongly encouraged, but papers which discuss other topics related to peace and war are welcome. Papers on the conference theme may discuss the phenomena of power and domination operating at any of a variety of levels: international politics, national politics, interpersonal relationships, gender issues, race and class issues, ecology and institutional politics within such institutions as families, schools, peace groups, military organizations, prisons, etc. Papers on the conference theme may discuss how power and domination (or our conceptions of them) work and/or how power and domination (or our conceptions of them) may be transformed. Presentation time for papers will be limited to twenty minutes. Papers are due July 1. Please send three copies of the paper and one copy of an abstract of no more than 150 words to: Laura Duhan Kaplan, Department of Philosophy, University of North Carolina at Charlotte, Charlotte, NC 28223.

________________________________________________________________________________
Concerned Philosophers for Peace
Department of Philosophy
The University of Dayton
300 College Park Avenue
Dayton, Ohio 45469-2260

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CPP Newsletter Online Notices V11.2

Santoni Serves as Delegate at UN Conference

Newsletter of the Concerned Philosophers for Peace, Vol. 1.2 (Fall 1991)

Ronald E. Santoni (Denison University) was a delegate at a special UN Conference for Peace Messenger organizations. Co-sponsored by the Soviet Peace Fund, the conference was held in Dagomys, Sochi, USSR on June 10-14 and focused on possibilities for peace in the 21st century. Santoni was a delegate for IPPNO and was selected to be “rapporteur” and spokesperson for a special working group of the conference concentrating on International Peace and Global Security. He also addressed the plenary session on “Nuclear Weapons: Moral Grounds for Their Abolition.”

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Articles CPP Newsletter Online V11.2

Reflections on ‘Soviet Union’ by James Sterba

Sterba, James P. “Reflections on Recent Events in What Used to be Called the Soviet Union,” Newsletter of the Concerned Philosophers for Peace, Vol. 1.2 (Fall 1991)

I was in the Soviet Union in August of 1991 when the military coup occurred. Later I will recount for you some of the experiences I had at the time, but I would also like to put my recent visit to the Soviet Union in the context of the other visits I have made to the Soviet Union going back to 1989 because they have been for me a developing teaching and learning experience. In 1989, I was a Fulbright lecturer at the University of Latvia in Riga and my family and I got to witness the development of the independence movements in the Baltic republics and elsewhere in the Soviet Union. At the time, I was looking for topics to lecture on that might be useful to the faculty and students, and I began to notice parallels between the political movements to be found in various Soviet republics and the feminist movement in the United States. First of all, people in the Soviet Union were interested in getting a correct view of their own history, for example, the Ribbentrop-Molotov Pact in 1939 which led to the incorporation of Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia into the Soviet Union. People in the Soviet Union had just been able to publicly speak about this pact for the first time when we got there. Similarly, feminists in the United States are interested in uncovering the role of women in our history which has certainly not been given much coverage in our history books. Secondly, people in the Soviet Union were interested in giving proper recognition to native writers whose work was previously ignored or suppressed. Similarly, feminists in the United States are seeking to give proper recognition to women writers whose works were previously ignored or devalued because, for example, they focused on aspects of human life that men found uninteresting. Thirdly, people in the Soviet Union were pressing for greater rights, particularly vis-a-vis the central government. Similarly, feminists in the United States are pressing for greater rights for women. Yet surprisingly there was no feminist movement in the Soviet Union.

I argued that this inconsistency undermined the political movements that were underway in the Soviet Union. Later, in arguing this point in the Baltic republics, I used a remark from Prime Minister Prunskiene of Lithuania before she resigned her post. She said, “I am the only woman of rank in the government. And sometimes I look around me and think that the shape of democracy and the process of democracy might be well served if there were more women involved.”

In 1990, I again visited Moscow and Riga. In Riga, I argued that it was important for leaders of the Popular Front Independence Movement to exchange views and reach agreements with ethnic Russians living in Latvia. These Russians, I claimed, needed to be convinced that they would benefit from future economic prosperity and that they would have full civil and political rights. As a strategy for dealing with Moscow, I proposed that local leaders present arguments, if they could, that either independence for the Baltic republics would not lead to independence for the other Soviet republics, or if it would (as it has), this would have beneficial effects overall. I must say that at the time, although there was considerable support among Latvians for including ethnic Russians in their independence movement, few showed any concern for the impact their independence movement would have on the rest of the Soviet Union.

Now this past summer I again planned to visit Riga and Moscow. I had received invitations and had planned to lecture in Riga on the implications of environmental ethics for Baltic independence, and in Moscow on the relevance of feminism. I traveled to Riga by way of Moscow arriving late on August 17. On the 18th, I toured the countryside with my hosts, visiting the ruins of 13th Century castles and enjoying the lush green landscapes. But on awakening on the 19th, the first thing I heard from my hosts was news of the military coup in Moscow. That day I was to have lectured on environmental ethics at the University of Latvia. Later that day when one of my hosts and I walked to the university to officially cancel my lecture (despite its long term importance, in the middle of a military coup, environmental ethics did not seem like a very pressing problem) military helicopters armed with missiles circled overhead, but surprisingly, except for children, people did not seem to pay them much heed. Upon returning to my hosts’ apartment, I was also surprised to find the local TV station broadcasting CNN and simultaneously translating it into Latvian. I was told that since the recent attempted crackdown in January, CNN had been carried for one half an hour every evening without translation, but now with the coup it was being broadcast continuously with translation. At one point, I saw the news conference of the coup leaders covered by CNN in Moscow. Here Russian was being translated into English and the English into Latvian all virtually simultaneously. I was impressed. Around this time, one of my hosts suggested that I should fly home directly rather than through Moscow. She was worried and so was I.

Around 6:30 P.M., the local TV station was occupied. By 7:30 P.M. the international telephone station and headquarters of the Popular Front Independence Movement had been seized. In each case, the number of troops involved was small; fifty occupied the TV station and four Black Berets seized and then abandoned the headquarters of the Popular Front. The international telephone station was near my hosts’ home, and we heard gunfire about the time that it was announced over the radio that the station had been occupied. Nearby, Black Berets shot two people in a radio van, killing one and critically wounding the other who later died as well.

We heard reports that tanks were approaching Riga and that bridges to the city were cut. The leader of the Communist Party in Latvia, who had been previously excluded from power by a coalition of non-Communist parties, claimed that he had formed a committee that would carry out the orders of the committee formed in Moscow. There were also reports from the duly-elected Latvian government leaders saying that all was calm, that there was no need for emergency powers, but that people should surround the parliament building.

In general, in Latvia and in the other Baltic republics, the strategy was not to confront the military, the opposite of what was being done in Moscow and Leningrad. This was because most of those in the military forces in the Baltics were Russian, not Lithuanians, Latvian or Estonian, and so most of them had little sympathy for the local independence movements.

The hopes of most of the people I talked to in Latvia centered on Yeltsin and what he would be able to do in the Russian republic. We were encouraged when we saw Yeltsin speaking from a tank and when we saw demonstrators talking and even fighting with soldiers–all, of course, on CNN. We were specifically encouraged when we heard that a number of tanks and military forces had gone over to Yeltsin and were taking defensive positions around the Russian parliament. Later, from reading reports of these events, I came to the conclusion (even against my inclination) that much of the credit for the failure of the coup has to be given to the Russian army and also to the officers of the KGB who refused orders in the early stages of the coup. This is because it was only later that the people of Moscow took to streets and became a force against the coup. If the military had responded quickly, the people in Moscow and Leningrad would not have had the time to rally their forces, and, as a result, I think that the coup would have been successful, at least for a time. However, there is a further story to tell that ultimately credits the failure of the coup to the actions of individual civilians. It turns out that many military officers in explaining why they refused orders, said they did not want to participate in events like those that had occurred in Lithuania in January of 1991 in which a number of civilians were killed when they nonviolently resisted the military.

To finish my personal saga, I was scheduled to leave Riga by plane the next day at 8:00 A.M. We had heard reports that the bridge that we would have to cross to get to the airport was sometimes cut. So we decided to start for the airport by car at 4:00 A.M. As we approached the bridge, we saw an armored vehicle in the middle of the road with a soldier nearby flagging us down. After checking our papers, however, the soldier let us go. As we crossed the bridge, we heard shots in the direction of the old town, but it was too dark to see anything. Later, as we continued along, a car with local militia in it pulled along side our car, but after staring at us for some time, the car pulled away. At the airport, everything looked normal, and my plane actually departed on time, as did my plane from Moscow to Berlin. Obviously, I felt a certain relief once my plane was in the air heading for Berlin, but I also felt that having shared that day and a night with my friends in Riga, my life was inextricably joined to theirs in ways that are only possible when one lives through such momentous events together.

Let me end by giving a brief overall assessment of the situation in what used to be called the Soviet Union from my current vantage point. Although I have been more pessimistic in the past, my current assessment is basically optimistic. I am optimistic for the future of the republics in what used to be called the Soviet Union and for the Baltic nations in particular. When I first visited Latvia in 1989, people there were hoping that political independence would be achieved in ten years time. When I was in Riga this past August on the 18th, I asked one of my hosts when would the huge Lenin statue that was in the center of Riga come down. This statue was in the middle of what is now called Freedom Street. This street used to be called Lenin Street. Before that it was called Hitler Street. During the period of independence (1919-1940), it was called Freedom Street, and before that it was called Alexander Street after Czar Alexander I of Russia. Pointing to the statue, my host said that many changes would have to take place in Latvia before that statue could come down. The next Sunday on the front page of the International Herald Tribune was a picture of that Lenin statue in Riga, lying on the ground. In the final analysis, it is events like these that make me optimistic about the future of what used to be called the Soviet Union.

University of Notre Dame

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CPP Books CPP News CPP Newsletter Online V11.2

The CPP Series: ETHICS, VIOLENCE AND PEACE

Series Editor: Kenneth H. Klein

Issues in War and Peace (1989)
Editors: Joseph C. Kunkel & Kenneth H. Klein

In the Interest of Peace (1990)
Editors: Kenneth H. Klein & Joseph C. Kunkel

Just War, Nonviolence, and Nuclear Deterrence (1991)
Editors: Duane Cady & Richard Werner

Longwood Academic
Hollowbrook Publishing
Wakefield, New Hampshire

Details on the Most Recent Volume

JUST WAR, NONVIOLENCE, AND NUCLEAR DETERRENCE
Philosophers on War and Peace

Duane Cady and Richard Werner (eds.)

In this new anthology, contemporary philosophers turn their attention to the issues of war and peace. Using their skills in political and social philosophy, ethical theory, and critical analysis, they debate the morality and logic of nuclear deterrence, the applicability and viability of just war theory, and the ethics and practicality of non-violence. Many perspectives and viewpoints are represented, including those of feminism, political realism, pacifism, and just war theory.

Several of the contributors are well-known for their previous books and articles on war and peace. The contributors include Sheldon Cohen, William Gay, Robert Holmes, Douglas Lackey, Steven Lee, Sara Ruddick, Ronald Santoni, and James Sterba. Most of the articles appear here in print for the first time.

Editor Duane Cady is chair of the philosophy department at Hamline University and is the author of the book From Warism to Pacifism. He presently serves as president of Concerned Philosophers for Peace. Co-editor Richard Werner is chair of the philosophy department at Hamilton College. He presently serves as eastern divisional representative for Concerned Philosophers for Peace.

ISBN: 0-89341-675-4 cloth $37.50 ISBN: 0-89341-676-2 paper $18.50 304 pages