Not Just War, Some Other Things Too
Pacifist and socialist that I am, I did think that the BBC’s “How war has driven medical advances“ could just as easily have been titled “How state funding and attention have driven medical advances”
Anyone with a suspected internal injury gets a full body scan [explained a consultant in the Emergency Department at Camp Bastion in Afghanistan]. “That is something we should consider more of in the NHS.”
While the field hospital in question is “at the forefront in developments in trauma surgery” one can’t help but wonder whether any hospital given 8,000 trauma victims per annum and a chunk of the MoD’s budget might not achieve similar results. It seems a little odd for the writer to credit war for “driving” these advances and so, in effect, glorify the process by which those injuries were gained. If the NHS took to spending most of its budget hitting people with cricket bats, then using the resulting influx of patients to develop improved bone-setting techniques I’m not sure we’d be thanking them for the advance. I suppose, though, if the batting were considered “necessary” for other reasons, one might at least consider better plaster-casts an added bonus…
This all brings me onto the justifiability of violence; a topic so big, and so complex, that it’s only by telling myself that I’m “just jotting down a few thoughts” that I can begin to write anything at all. One day, perhaps, I will have a tidy, absolute justification for my (admittedly rather absolute) views on the topic. As it is, my thoughts are something of a pendulum, pulled back and forth by my desire for a stable resting point but never quite settling there. It’s not long since I walked out of a panel debate out of upset with one of the panellists; partly me not wanting to hear such an objectionable view any more and partly, I confess, as my own little (non-violent, but visible) protest. The implication, or outright statement, that sometimes a little violence is justifiable (in this case, throwing stones at the Egyptian military) tends to set off a flurry of less than coherent annoyance in me. I would be happier, I think, if anyone were able to give me an adequate definition of ‘sometimes’, or of which types or levels of violence are minor enough, or prove to me that evil does not beget evil, a little violence does not lead to greater violence, and throwing stones does not trigger, justify, or otherwise promote an arms race.
And so the pendulum swings, and my hunting for answers (or, perhaps, idle procrastination on the Internet) leads me to this piece on “Pacifism or passivity?” I can’t even come close to doing it justice in a summary and so I urge you to read it through in full. I can, though, excerpt some of the more relevant parts:
There is another reason why pompous exhortations to keep calm and put down the rocks can sound grating to Palestinian ears. The people who are urging them to embrace non-violence and dramatically enquiring as to the whereabouts of the Palestinian Gandhi are rarely committed to non-violence themselves. Last year Foreign Secretary William Hague visited the stricken village of Bi’lin, and he praised non-violent protest as the best solution to the occupation. Yet he himself had just voted for the replacement of Trident, Britain’s nuclear weapons system. Such a person has no business to be telling the Bi’lin shabaab not to chuck stones at the IDF. If you believe that armed resistance and warfare can ever be legitimate – and Hague’s voting record tells us that he certainly does – then the people of occupied Palestine have a right to use it.
I don’t imagine that Mr Hague actively enjoys this or any previous government taking Britain to war. I like to think – I hope – that he sees it as “a necessary evil”. While I take issue with that as a concept, I think that I can at least understand why he or anyone else (be they British, Palestinian, or Israeli) might come to that conclusion. Accordingly, if I’m to afford that moral leeway to friends, to politicians, to those who sign up for military service and to those who don’t resist conscription, I would struggle to do better than to follow the closing words of the piece:
I could never condemn a Palestinian who tugs rocks loose from the earth and hurls them at the occupying army, because that is her earth, and her choice. Pacifism can’t be enforced on anybody; in a land where there is very limited freedom, everybody has the right to choose how to resist.
I am coming (again) to a place where I would struggle to see violence as justifiable but, with some effort, can at least find it understandable. The author says that “pacifists may be at even greater risk from army retaliation, because the army doesn’t know any other way to deal with their approach and outlook.” I would dare to suggest that this is a problem not unique to the IDF – just as pacifism is hard, it is hard to understand, and there are surely those on every side in every conflict who will take the easy option and meet all resistance, violent or not, with a stone or a gun. And in the face of that, even if first intentions are pure, where is the breaking point? How many friends does the peaceful protestor have to see shot before they pick up a rock? How many bombings have to take place before a shopkeeper moves from a mindset of reason and a desire for discourse to an attitude of hate and intolerance? Unlike William Hague, I’m an absolutist when it comes to non-violence and I am not, at first glance, excluded by hypocrisy from preaching an absolutely pacifist approach to every given situation. But who, really, am I to judge those who give in to violence? I am, perhaps, just someone who hasn’t found their breaking point yet and, if I can be forgiven the cliché, I hope that I never have to. It is a far easier (although not always easy) to espouse pacifism from the bedroom than from the barricade and, but for grace and good fortune, I could so easily be the one abandoning ideals in the heat of the moment. So with all due respect (a usefully vague phrase) to those who do see violence as an answer, and with all due admiration to those who never do give in, I will return to preaching the absolute and end with this, the most reassuring and inspirational line of the article:
Palestine is occupied, but in each person who refuses to succumb to violence there is a place that is unconquerable, and there is a formidable strength in that place.