William Tecumseh Sherman |
Friday, 24 August 2012
On Fruit Trees and Captive Cities
We
have all heard the expression ‘War is Hell.’
We might not be aware of the origins of the claim. But we don’t even think of questioning the
truth in it. How could we?
In this room are not many who have had
direct, personal experience in war.
Sadly, the generation that knew the Second World War has largely passed
on. We still have a handful of members
who either fought as combatants in that war or who were as civilians displaced
from their homes and countries. But most
of us in the room this evening are too young to have first-hand
experience. For us, the stories told us
by our parents – in some of our cases, by our grandparents – have had to
suffice.
There have been wars since then. Of course, there was the Korean War. We do have one member who is a veteran of
that conflict. And then there was
Vietnam. Before I came to Australia, I
was not so aware that Vietnam was an Australian war also. I had
been aware that Australians not much older than me had fought in it. But I had not realized that Australia’s
Vietnam experience paralleled that of the USA so closely. I did not know that, while you had a draft,
it was quite selective and that many young men avoided service through various
kinds of deferments. It was this
selectivity that made the lot of those who did
go to Vietnam seem so unfair, just like in America. The length and inconclusive end of the
conflict made Australia shy of such entanglements for decades, just as with the
USA.
Vietnam
created a generational gap between my parents’ generation, and mine. My father and the young men of his generation
fought willingly in World War Two and came home with a sense of having
participated in a campaign for a great and just cause. Members of my generation who went to Vietnam
often went under duress and came home traumatized for having participated in a
conflict where it was never quite so clear who were the ‘Good Guys’ and who
were the bad. They fought without having
a sense of being supported by their countrymen at home. And they came home traumatised, after all
their experiences, for not having brought the conflict to a conclusive end.
So
War is Hell. The first recorded use of
the phrase is actually by William Tecumseh Sherman. Many of you have heard his name. He was a Union general in the American Civil
War, fought between 1861 and 1865. In
the Southern States, those whose succession from the Union formed the
Confederacy, Sherman’s name still evokes expressions of disgust. Sherman, after all sacked Atlanta and led the
march to the Atlantic Coast, on which he pursued an unbridled, scorched earth
policy. For Sherman, ‘War is Hell’ was
an answer to those who criticised his displacement of a civilian population on
hundreds of square miles of rural territory.
Thousands of people left homeless?
Crops destroyed in the fields, which will surely lead to famine? War is
Hell. With the phrase, he scoffed at
the notion that there is any need for taming the injury of war toward civilian
populations.
And then there was Carl von
Clausewitz, the ‘Mad Prussian.’
Clausewitz is the one who famously informed us that ‘War is the
continuation of politics by other means.’ We can see the truth of this
notion. We might recoil from it because
we want to see the resort to arms as a major phase shift in the management of a
conflict, where Clausewitz seemed to see it as simply another step in the
acting out of international conflict.
Less famously, Clausewitz declared: ‘Earlier theorists aimed to equip the conduct of
war with principles (or) rules. All
these attempts are objectionable, however, because they aim at fixed values. In war everything is uncertain and variable,
intertwined with psychological forces and effects, and the product of a
continuous interaction of opposites.’ Clausewitz viewed any tendency to set
rules whose purpose is to abrogate the brutality of war, as absurd.
And then there was the Torah. In this week’s parashah, we find some of the Torah’s laws concerning the conduct
of warfare. In particular, tomorrow
morning we shall read the verse that prohibits uprooting a besieged city’s
fruit trees. The sieging army may make
use of them for food, but may not destroy them.
Bal tashchit – Do Not Destroy
– has become a body of law concerning constraint in war. It has also developed into an environmental
ethic, but more about that another time.
If
Clausewitz had his way, there would be no fetters against the use of force for
moral purposes. His only support of
proportionality was for pragmatic reasons.
But in the real world of warfare there are many constraints to the
conduct of belligerents. There are
important conventions regarding the treatment of civilians, enemy combatants
taken prisoner, and the enemy’s battlefield wounded. These constraints are not universally followed,
but that does not bring them into question.
When a country’s army does not follow the conventions, it produces such
loathing in world opinion because the world expects them to be followed. Somewhat.
Although
much of the commonly-accepted constraints can be traced to early Christian
thinkers, we find a highly-developed body of laws in the Talmud. And the Talmud, while its text is esoteric in
non-Jewish circles, is based on oral principles which certainly would have been
well-known to Christianity’s founders who were, after all, Jews.
But our reading this week sounds more than a
little contradictory. On one hand it
forbids the wanton destruction of fruit trees.
On the other hand it tells us: When you approach a town to attack it, you
shall offer it terms of peace. If it
responds peacefully and lets you in, all the people present there shall serve
you as forced labour. If it does not
surrender to you, but would join battle with you, you shall lay siege to
it. When the Lord your God delivers it
into your hand, you shall put all its males to the sword.
Why
the deep concern over trees, juxtaposed with the license to kill all the town’s
men? Is this some deep mystery to be
probed, or is it just an example of the Torah’s brutality? It’s neither.
This
passage is a sermon Moses was delivering to the people Israel, concerning the
conduct of the coming war of conquest against the Canaanite nations. Some historians and archaeologists say that
the war never happened; they assert that evidence outside the books of the
Prophets suggest that it was more an ‘infiltration’ than a war. True?
Personally, I’ll leave that for the historians. The Torah’s purpose is not to teach us
history, rather morality. If that’s so,
what is the moral lesson in this?
For
Shlomo Goren, the first chief rabbi of the modern Israeli Defence Forces, the
lesson is the danger of creeping avodah
zarah – paganism. He pointed to how
the proscription of the Canaanite nations included a warning against finding
attraction for their practices. Given
our history, one can see that this is a very valid concern. We – like the rest of humanity – are easily
led astray by our eyes. That which we
see, which is attractive to us, we pursue.
Often, with no constraints. This
is the essence of paganism. It isn’t
necessarily about statues. It’s about
worship of things.
So
Rav Goren saw in the brutality that Moses was presumably unleashing through his
sermon, a lesson in not making accommodation with the worship of material
gods. And he offered the caution that,
in the modern conflict of the Israeli state with the Arab confrontation states,
the Jewish fighter must not see the Arabs as an incarnation of the Canaanite
nations. He cautioned that the laws of
the Canaanite conquest should be seen as a one-time event, not as guidelines
for warfare against Israel’s enemies in any age. Shlomo Goren, by the way, in his lifetime was
considered to be the spiritual leader of the ‘Settler Movement.’ You know, those ‘Evil Settlers’? The zealots who supposedly want to kill every
Arab? One can agree or disagree with the
Settlers’ quest to bring a Jewish presence to every corner of the traditional Land
of Israel. One can consider them heroes,
or misguided. But they are definitely not the bloodthirsty baby
killers that the Palestinian Propaganda Machine and its fans in the West, have
asserted with much success.
I
realize that I have barely scratched the surface of the topic of morality in
war. For that I beg forgiveness. I guess I don’t need to beg forgiveness for
not making you sit through a sermon long enough to touch all the major points
of the subject... It’s a fascinating
subject, and an important one. There is
a definite Jewish ethic of warfare, and it should be an important voice among
the different traditions of the world in bringing some order to the chaos. For now, my message is that we should
endeavour to know the sources – our sources
– better. I’m going to talk about
another aspect of this subject tomorrow morning. That’s not a promise, but a threat! Shabbat shalom.
Carl von Clausewitz |
Saturday, 25 August 2012
Living with Violence
A
few weeks ago, I talked about Bal
Tashchit, Do Not Destroy. It forms
an overall Jewish ethic on the conduct of warfare, but also on protection of
the environment. This week, Rabbi Gary
Robuck, of North Shore Temple Emanuel, wrote an excellent drash on the aspect
of protecting the environment. If you do
not subscribe to the weekly e-mailed drashot from the UPJ, you can find his
drash posted on the UPJ website. Rabbi
Robuck has very thoroughly and effectively presented the import of Bal Tashchit with regard to an
environmental ethic. Therefore, I wish
to continue speaking this morning about the aspect of ethics in warfare, about
which I began last night.
As you all know by now, I spent 26
years serving in the US forces – the first 14 years in cryptologic
intelligence, and the final 12 years as a chaplain. Although I was on active duty for a number of
years while my country was fighting wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, I was not
directly involved in either business. I
did spend some time in Iraq, supporting the troops there as a chaplain. But the troops I worked with were not
themselves front-line combatants. Their
immediate concerns had more to do with loneliness and relationship issues
between Iraq and home. They were not particularly
concerned with the ethical aspects of fighting a war.
However, I did participate in Operation Eldorado
Canyon, in April of 1986. You may
remember, that was an attack by the US Navy and Air Force on Tripoli,
Libya. President Reagan launched it in
response to firm intelligence that agents of Libya’s now-deceased leader
Muammar Qaddafi had bombed ‘La Belle’ night club in Berlin, frequented by US
soldiers, ten days before. During the
operation, the US precision-bombed several high-value targets in Tripoli,
including the compound of Qaddafi himself.
Qaddafi was unhurt, but the Libyans claimed – a claim never
substantiated – that Qaddafi’s adopted infant daughter was killed in the
bombing. My own role was as an analyst, sifting through reports of changing air
order of battle to brief aircrews preparing for intelligence-gathering
sorties.
When damage assessments
began coming in, there was a certain glee among the crews and we ground support
personnel alike. Nobody was particularly
troubled by the report that we’d hit Qaddafi’s compound. It is illegal according to the conventions of
war, to target senior political leaders for assassination. However, in the minds of all the guys with
whom I worked, the raid on Qaddafi’s compound was ‘just deserts’ for his
personally ordering the bombing that killed three Americans and injured 229 in
that Berlin disco. Nobody in my unit
would have mourned Qaddafi’s passing then, and none of the guys I worked with
then – or the residents of Lockerbie, Scotland for that matter, mourned his
lynching by Libyan rebels last year.
So it is widely
accepted that there are rules in the conduct of warfare. But at the same time, the rules are easily
set aside if the situation warrants. In
1986, the Joint Chiefs of Staff and President Reagan thought the actions of
Qaddafi as a terror mastermind, overruled any protection that he may have been
afforded under the conventions of war and politics.
Because the laws can be
set aside, people who are decidedly Doves tend to pooh-pooh the very notion
that there are laws governing the conduct of war. They can point to ample situations where
leaders simply set them aside, or else troops in the field violate them in the
passion of the moment.
Some would argue that
having laws to govern something that is essentially ungovernable is a
sham. In the case of war, having such
conventions tends to obscure the reality that war is brutal and that cannot be
changed. ‘Pretending’ that war can be
regulated, to be made ‘nicer,’ (this argument goes) makes it politically easier
for a leader to commit to go to war. I
would argue against the position on every point. First of all, war is not ungovernable. Compare the customs of war as practiced in
the medieval world, with those practiced by sovereign nations engaged in
warfare in our age. Ask someone who was
a prisoner of war. Barney Barnett, one
of our members was a POW of the Germans during World War Two while serving in
the British Army. Although his
experience as a captive of the Germans could not be called pleasant, he
suffered no particular abuse. The Wehrmacht treated their Western
prisoners far better than they treated POWs from the Red Army, not to mention
the Jews and other ‘enemies of the state.’
Why the difference? Because the
Germans were blinded by their racism.
Not only toward Jews; they saw the Slavs as Untermenschen. So they
abused the Soviet prisoners of War, using them as slave labour and even
integrating them with other targeted peoples in death camps such as
Auschwitz. But enemies whom they
respected – the Americans as well as the British and their Commonwealth
partners – they tended to treat according to the conventions.
The Israeli Defence Forces, coming from the
Jewish state have a highly developed sense of battlefield ethics, and
infractions of the law by their own soldiers are dealt with most harshly. What’s interesting – nay, upsetting – is that
Israel of all nations is seen as an unbridled aggressor in the world
forum. But the Israelis put themselves
in danger time and again, in order to carry out operations with the least
possible collateral damage. I don’t
expect the Palestinians to concede that.
But I do expect the BBC and
other organs of the Western Press to acknowledge it.
Rabbinic law contains
much legislation on when it is permissible to go to war, on the limits of the
application of force, who can be conscripted for war, on the treatment of
captives and on the treatment of the remains of the enemy’s battlefield dead. Some readers express a critical view of the
Torah’s even allowing the Jews to go
to war. Why not outlaw it?
The answer is the
Rabbis’ expression: The Torah is to live by, not to die by. If Jewish law required a pacifistic response
to all violence against the Jews, there would soon be no Jews left alive to
live by the Torah. The world of 3,500
years ago was no less dangerous than that of today. Against certain enemies you can lay down your
arms. When Gandhi pursued a policy of
non-violence, his ‘enemy’ was Great Britain:
not unimpeachable for sure, but one of the greatest forces for good in
the world’s history. When Martin Luther King, Jr. asked Black
America to forswear violence, likewise his ‘enemy’ was one of the most moral
nations every known. When each of these
great men suggested that the Jews should have taken a stand of absolute
non-violence against Nazi Germany, they both showed themselves to have an incredible
blind spot and flawed thinking.
To apply this analogy
to a contemporary conflict, I quote the words of Dennis Prager, which ring
true: If the Palestinians would lay down their arms, tomorrow there would be
a Palestinian state. If the Israelis would
lay down their arms, tomorrow there would be no Israel.
The reality that we
live with is that our world is a dangerous place. Nation will continue to lift up sword against
nation. The words of the Prophet Isaiah
predicting the contrary have not yet come true.
It is therefore not incumbent upon us to beat our swords into ploughshares. Yet, as I quoted General William Tecumseh
Sherman last night, War is Hell. We know that we must ameliorate the horrors
of war if we are to survive with our humanity intact. Thus Jewish Law, and its antecedents in
younger world faiths, prescribes boundaries.
Sometimes those boundaries will be crossed. But that does not call into question the
ongoing effort to apply laws to the conduct of warfare, and to influence the
other nations of the world to accept and abide by those laws.
Prophet Isaiah |
May we see peace and
security in our lifetime. May we
experience only a world where one can travel freely across borders, reaching
out in friendship to the other nations of the world, even when we are in
conflict with them. But may we never let
down our guard, our readiness to defend freedom and fight tyranny. War is Hell, but a world in which tyranny
prevails is worse.
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