Syria: Even fainter hope

By guest author Mike Corgan

Map of Syria
Image in public domain

The tragic course of violence in Syria, falling mostly as it usually does on women and children, highlights the limitations of the United Nations as a means of peaceful conflict resolution in the world.

Even at its best, the UN can only do in situations like the Syrian civil war what the Security Council allows, and that body is set to stop action rather than take it.

The best analogy of the Security Council is that of a circuit breaker. It shuts down anything that is too big for the system to handle. The idea is that if any of the five permanent members (P5) really don’t want an action, then taking it would likely cause a more widespread and destructive situation.

Right now China and Russia are both balking at anything more than admonitions to Syria for what the Assad regime is doing to its own people. Neither country, each with its own restive and sometime violent Muslim minorities in Central Asia, wants any kind of precedent-setting UN response that promotes intervention in internal state conflict, however bloody and barbaric.

Russia has the additional motivation of not wishing to be seen as weak because it abandons a decades-long client state.

Who else could intervene? NATO is withdrawing forces from both Iraq and Afghanistan as fast as it can. Trying to set the house in order for another Middle Eastern state is not on any member’s agenda.

The ratio of Arab League rhetoric to action is nearly infinite.

Israel can only watch and hope. Geopolitically speaking, a fractious Syria on its border is a positive thing–but one sunk into chaos is not.

And even if some outside power did step in to stop the massacres, the aftermath of regime change now evident in other Arab states like Libya and Egypt is not at all encouraging.

It is the inevitably depressing commentary on humankind that perhaps only exhaustion of one or both of the combatants will end the killing. Inspired leadership by someone, anyone, could also be the answer but, alas, that is an even fainter hope.

Michael T. Corgan, Ph.D., Associate Professor and Associate Chair, Department of International Relations, Boston University

Committed to non-violent protesting (Quaker reflections, Part 3)

A continuing series by guest author Jean Gerard

Moving to California, I married and began raising three boys. It was the time of World War II, with its nuclear atrocities that wiped out vast portions of my beloved Japan.  All too soon again came the Korean “engagement.”

Quaker star
Quaker star. Image in public domain

Finally worried and angry enough, I joined Quakers. With the strength of their comradeship and guidance, I committed to non-violent protesting of further nuclear testing and missile development.

I was a paid office manager for the Sane Nuclear Policy Committee, then later for Women’s Strike for Peace and the Nuclear Weapons Freeze movement, and finally for the American Friends (Quaker) Service Committee.  My main interest has long been in world peace:

  • To what extent could it be taught?
  • What are the essential ingredients of intercultural understanding and acceptance?
  • What does empathy have to do with understanding differences?

It is no surprise that I have fallen in with Occupiers.  I find them particularly engaging because they are trying to do what I failed to do – discover and employ the most important fundamental of peace-making – creative alternatives to violence.

I have read some, listened a lot, and thought a great deal about the works of Gene Sharp, Richard Gregg and others, and the practices of Gandhi, Mandela, Schweitzer, Havel and Walesa, the Berrigan brothers, and Catholic Worker activists.

When the recent uprisings began in the Middle East, I started reading Al Jazeera and several foreign English language sources.  I recognized at last some hope for stopping the destruction of this failing world and for rehabilitating our decadent American democracy.

I see the free Internet as an aid to improving international understanding, and nonviolent revolution as a means toward a human future.

 

As protests by millions continue (Quaker reflections, Part 1)

[Note from Kathie Malley-Morrison:  Today we welcome guest author Jean Gerard, a long-term Quaker pacifist and activist, who worked for the Nuclear Freeze Movement, Women Strike for Peace, and Sane, among other anti-war and pro-peace activities. This is the first of several posts containing her reflections on current and historical trends in peace activism.]

Moroccan protests
Moroccan protest photo by Magharebia; used under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license

Over a period of little more than a year, several national movements in the Middle East have succeeded in displacing dictators, bringing one into an international court of justice.  In other nations authoritarian resistance has been more invulnerable.

The ultimate results are not yet clear as protests by millions continue in spite of great loss of life.

“Occupy Wall Street” was undoubtedly encouraged by these massive protests of young jobless Middle Eastern revolutionists. Beginning  first in New York City, Occupy Wall Street spread rapidly across the country –  “occupying” many public spaces from coast to coast.

As winter weather made camping outdoors more difficult and groups living temporarily in public spaces were ousted by police forces, the movement has temporarily fallen out of media attention, but is still functioning in a reflective mode, waiting for spring.

General “liberal” opinion is that the movement will re-emerge better organized and focused. I, like many others, wait with desperate anticipation, for I am deeply engaged in its success.

Most of my life I have worked for peace and justice causes. I taught college classes in both California and Japan, and tried to prod students into learning about and understanding the world and its many problems.

Despite efforts by teachers and community organizers everywhere, the problems have seemed to worsen and we see too little evidence of positive change. Over-population, rapid technological development, environmental hazards, successive wars one after another, and lagging support for public education have continued for so long that problems have blown up in all our faces.

Even the smallest and most remote of human groups are now brought so close together that they are drawn into conflict faster than they can understand what is happening.

 

“We should blow up the countries” (Liberate THIS, Part 5)

Part 5 in our continuing series by guest author, Dahlia Wasfi

Most medical residencies are abusive, and this one was no different. But the environment became even more hostile following what happened on September 11, 2001.

“I don’t want to operate on any Middle Eastern people,” one attending physician muttered.

“We should blow up the countries of each of the hijackers,” another said vengefully.

Shock and awe cartoon
London graffitti; photo by Michael Reeve. Used under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

These were my supervisors—medical professionals who had taken the Hippocratic Oath.  One of the foundations of medical ethics is supposed to be “Primum non nocere”:  First, do no harm.

I wasn’t feeling that sentiment in what these doctors were saying.  And based on the hostility they were directing towards “Middle Eastern people,” I worried about potential backlash against me if they learned what my background was.

I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat, along with my voice, and continued to work under them, business as usual.  Protecting myself within my workplace took priority for me that day over speaking against injustice.  I condemned these physicians for their hypocrisy, but my silence was dishonest as well.

By early 2002, the U.S. had invaded Afghanistan, and the American government was telling lies to build support for invading Iraq. My relatives, from whom I still was separated, had been starving under sanctions for more than 12 years. Now, we were going to shock and awe them. My tax dollars would help foot the bill.

“We should just nuke ’em,” my attending physician proclaimed.

In September 2002, overwhelmed by the hypocrisy without and the painful conflict within, I couldn’t continue business as usual. I burned out. I was hospitalized.

Dr. Dahlia Wasfi