We
Americans have the dangerous tendency in our international thinking
to take a holier-than-thou attitude towards other nations. We
consider ourselves to be more noble and decent than other peoples,
and consequently in a better position to decide what is right
and wrong in the world. What kind of war do civilians suppose
we fought, anyway? We shot prisoners in cold blood, wiped out
hospitals, strafed lifeboats, killed or mistreated enemy civilians,
finished off the enemy wounded, tossed the dying into a hole with
the dead, and in the Pacific boiled the flesh off enemy skulls
to make table ornaments for sweethearts, or carved their bones
into letter openers. We topped off our saturation bombing and
burning of enemy civilians by dropping atomic bombs on two nearly
defenceless cities, thereby setting an all-time record for instantaneous
mass slaughter.
As victors we are privileged to try our defeated opponents for
their crimes against humanity; but we should be realistic enough
to appreciate that if we were on trial for breaking international
laws, we should be found guilty on a dozen counts. We fought a
dishonourable war, because morality had a low priority in battle.
The tougher the fighting, the less room for decency, and in Pacific
contests we saw mankind reach the blackest depths of bestiality.
Not
every American soldier, or even one per cent of our troops, deliberately
committed unwarranted atrocities, and the same might be said for
the Germans and Japanese. But we publicised every inhuman act
of our opponents and censored any recognition of our own moral
frailty in moments of desperation.
It
is not my intention either to excuse our late opponents or to
discredit our own fighting men. I do, however, believe that all
of us, not just the battle-enlightened GIs, should fully understand
the horror and degradation of war before talking so casually of
another one. War does horrible things to men, our own sons included.
It demands the worst of a person and pays off in brutality and
maladjustment. It has become so mechanical, inhuman, and crassly
destructive that men lose all sense of personal responsibility
for their actions. They fight without compassion, because that
is the only way to fight a total war....
Peter
Bowman summed up our victory to date in Beach Red when he wrote,
“Battle doesn’t determine who is right. Only who is
left.” We destroyed fascists, not fascism; men, not ideas.
Our triumphs did not serve as evidence that democracy is best
for the world, any more than Russian victories proved that communism
is an ideal system for all mankind.... Today we stand on trial – we are either for peace or for war, and the rest of the
world is prepared to move with us or against us. The burden of
proof is on us; and our willingness to make peace, not our capacity
to wage war, is the true measure of our good-neighbourliness.
Edgar
L. Jones
“One War Is Enough”
(The Atlantic Monthly, February 1946)
Virtuous Leaders or War Criminals?
Charles Munger is so deeply sceptical about the human condition,
wrote Roger Lowenstein in Buffett: The Making of an American
Capitalist (Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 1996), that Warren Buffett
has called him “the abominable no-man.” A tenet of Munger’s
approach to investing – and to life in general – is
constantly to ask what can and likely will go awry. “Invert,
always invert,” said the mathematician Carl Jacobi, and for
decades Munger has faithfully applied this maxim. Invited to address
high school graduands, he did not laud the habits and qualities
that would promote health, wealth and wisdom; instead, he denigrated
those that would ensure emotional penury and material misery. In
effect, he counselled his young audience “If you don’t do the things I’m going to talk about, then chances are you’ll
be just fine.” More whimsically, he once wondered aloud where
he would die “so that I never go there.”
Clearly, to “invert, always invert” is to mitigate
the downside and let the upside take care of itself. It is also
to see things from another person’s point of view; and a particularly
illuminating way is to consider a contentious situation from the
perspective of an opponent or adversary. If we can avoid harming
others (or offer amends to those whom we inadvertently harm), then
we lessen their incentive to hurt us; and if we can make habits
of civility and neighbourliness, we will likely reduce some of the
misfortune that life routinely tosses into our paths. Resentment
and hatred seem to flourish longest and deepest among people who
have lost (or never possessed) the capacity to empathise with the
people whom they have harmed, and also among the people who have
retained the capacity to remember the harm they have suffered. How
to avoid injuring others? We become more inclined to treat other
people as we would want them to treat us, and thereby to increase
the chances that we enjoy their goodwill, when we try to see their
situation, predicament or grievance through their spectacles. Accordingly,
a good way to avoid unintended consequences, mitigate what might
go awry and return to haunt us is to walk in others’ shoes.
David Ben-Gurion, Israel’s first prime minister, seemed
to be thinking along these lines when he said “If I were an
Arab leader I would never make terms with Israel. That is natural:
we have taken their country.... We come from Israel, but two
thousand years ago, and what is that to them? There has been anti-Semitism,
the Nazis, Hitler and Auschwitz, but was that their fault? They
only see one thing: we have come here and stolen their country.
Why should they accept that?” (for details, see John Mearsheimer
and Stephen Walt, The
Israel Lobby and U.S. Foreign Policy).
Alas, Ben-Gurion did not seem to be “inverting” when
he said “We must use terror, assassination, intimidation,
land confiscation and the cutting of all social services to rid
the Galilee of its Arab population.” Even more regrettably,
this apparent lack of compassion for people other than his own also
spread further abroad. In 1948, the year the State of Israel was
founded, he declared “We should prepare to go over to the
offensive. Our aim is to smash Lebanon, Trans-Jordan, and Syria.
The weak point is Lebanon, for the Moslem regime is artificial and
easy for us to undermine. We shall establish a Christian state there,
and then we will smash the Arab Legion, eliminate Trans-Jordan;
Syria will fall to us. We then bomb and move on and take Port Said,
Alexandria and Sinai” (see Michel Bar-Zohar, The Armed
Prophet: A Biography of Ben-Gurion, Barker, 1967).
Viewing things from an unaccustomed, unconventional or unpopular
angle often helps to understand them more thoroughly, appreciate
their worth and acknowledge their flaws, and thereby promotes humility
and inoculates against narrow-mindedness and intransigence. “Inversion”
does not necessarily corrode one’s principles; still less
does it inevitably overturn them. Yet once in a great while, it
triggers a fundamental alteration of outlook. But because it is
so emotionally difficult – indeed, because something akin
to the Stockholm
Syndrome usually prevails – people go to extraordinary
lengths to avoid painful reappraisals of their rulers and their
basic policies. Perhaps that is why so few Australians, for example,
think seriously about how their rulers’ policies affect people
in other countries. After all, these lands are usually distant and
unfamiliar; there are only so many hours in the day to inform oneself
about them; and other matters, from mortgage rates to petrol prices,
seem to be more pressing. Accordingly, are not such specialised
matters best left to the anointed experts in Canberra, the universities,
think tanks and editorial pages? And in the final analysis, surely
the motives of Australian politicians and their Anglo-American masters
are unimpeachable?
But shortages of time and energy do not provide very satisfactory
explanations of this general abandonment of the classical liberal
virtue of vigilance. It is clear to anybody who opens his eyes that
the policies of the political class in Canberra, Ottawa, Westminster,
etc., create messes and disasters at home: so why on earth should
they foment anything other than chaos and misery abroad? Alas, few
of the ruled ask this question. Instead, many avert their eyes and
blindly accept what their rulers tell them about foreigners and
far-off parts of the world. Why? Perhaps because if they saw things
from the point of view of people at the receiving end of Western
governments’ foreign policies, an awful truth would stare
them in the face: during and since the Second World War, some celebrated
Western “leaders,” particularly American and British,
have, by the standards employed at Nuremburg, qualified as war criminals.
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