CrossCurrents A Catholic Reflects on Faith in Our Times
Bernard
F. Swain, Ph.D.
The Tough Lessons of 2003 (part 2)
The Pope’s
Christmas message for 2003 contained the following prayer to Jesus, whose birth brought
the great promise, “Peace on earth”:
Save us from the great evils which
rend humanity
in these first years of the third millennium.
Save us from the wars and armed conflicts
which lay waste whole areas of the world,
from the scourge of terrorism
and from the many forms of violence
which assail the weak and the vulnerable.
Save us from discouragement
as we face the paths to peace,
difficult paths indeed, yet possible and therefore necessary;
paths which are always and everywhere urgent,
especially in the Land where You were born,
the Prince of Peace
The pope’s
prayer is both poignant and practical: poignant in noting the irony that, even
in the place of Jesus birth, the promise of that birth remains unfulfilled;
practical in acknowledging at once the difficulty and the necessity of the
“paths to peace.”
Last week’s CrossCurrents
ended with a list of “peace lessons” drawn from 2003, which help spell out
those difficult necessary paths. I included my own reflections on the first two
lessons (“We must get real: do we really want ‘Peace on Earth’?” and “Destroying
evil is not the way to peace.”). This week I offer the rest of my thoughts,
to aid your own New Year’s reflections on peace.
3. Victory
does not bring Peace. The “post-victory” scene in Iraq is proof positive that the US Bishops
were right when they said (in their 1983 document “The Challenge of Peace”)
that peace is not merely the absence of conflict. Any married couple knows the
difference between an armed truce and real peace. US victory can instill fear
in our enemies, but it cannot stop the hate that made them our enemies in the
first place. Until the underlying causes of conflict are addressed, we will be
free to argue whether to call the aftermath insurgency or resistance
or terrorism or something else—but we will not be able to call it peace. So our true banner cannot be “To get Peace,
make War”; it must be the words of Paul VI: “if you want peace, defend life.”
4. To
understand peace, we must understand conflict. This is actually an older
lesson from the Vietnam era. My grade-school teachers peddled the notion that
America’s goodness was proven by the fact that we had never lost a war. Then
Vietnam came along. Although many Americans resisted the truth, the lesson of
Vietnam was obvious: some conflicts cannot be solved by military means.
The conflict in Vietnam was about nationalism and self-determination in a
postcolonial world, and those were cultural and political problems that no
amount of military intervention could solve. The conflict now is a clash of
cultural traditions in a world where Moslems and Christians and Jews must learn
to cooperate. Our armies can occupy territories, and our weapons can and do
achieve mass destruction, and we can even eliminate leaders who oppose us. But
bombing and invasion and occupation cannot dissolve the hatred we face. Using
war to solve these conflicts is like bleeding patients to cure their illness—it
is an outmoded tool rooted in ignorance and fear, and unworthy of modern
civilized life. Modern conflicts demand modern solutions, and fortunately the
tools of international relations—organizations like the UN, systems like
international law, institutions like the World Court and the International
Criminal Court, even modern diplomatic techniques and communications—offer us
peaceful options better suited to the conflicts we face.
5. Might
does not make Right—or Peace. The US has arrived at the kind of total military
dominance that Hitler once had over Europe and Rome once had over the ancient
world (that dominance accounts, of course, for the capture and execution of
Jesus). So we can impose our will almost anywhere, coddling tyrants like Saddam
when they please us, and eliminating them once their usefulness ends. Even bad
polices can have some good results, of course (like Saddam's capture), but the
solid rock of Catholic moral teaching is “the ends do not justify the means.”
To paraphrase the proverb, all our good intentions merely pave the road to
hell. Only our best moral practices can pave the road to peace—for however
mighty our weapons makes us, they do not make us any better.
6. Even when
you win, war means “failure.” The Catholic “Just War” theory (repeatedly invoked
by our government about the invasion of Iraq) says war can only be justified as
a last resort. So any decision to go to war is a public declaration that all
peaceful resolutions have failed. And even a “justified” war can fail morally,
if its damage outweighs its intended good. Iraq is a perfect case in point: US
soldiers dying to destroy weapons that don’t exist; up to 10,000 civilians
killed (mostly women and children), a country in chaos and near-anarchy, most
of our allies alienated and distrustful, the entire Middle-East destabilized as
Iraq becomes a magnet for new terror attacks. All these bad results come with
victory. So this war, like so many before, began and ends in failures.
7. The only real victory is defeating war. Evil men like Hitler,
Stalin, Pol Pot, Suharto, Milosovic come and go. But weapons of mass
destruction remain—not in Iraq, to be sure, but in the US, Britain, Israel,
Russia, Ukraine, France, India, North and South Korea. Empires rise and
fall. “Isms” like fascism and communism
appear and disappear on the world stage. Evil wears many and varied masks, but
the one constant is war itself, which is as old as history and more durable
than any country, empire, system, or culture. As the man says in the film Usual
Suspects, “The devil’s greatest trick is to make people believe he doesn’t
exist.” When Saddam was caught, millions were pleased to see the end of their
enemy. But how many don’t even believe in the real enemy—an enemy still on the
loose? The real enemy, of course, is war itself. Thomas Merton was right: as long as war exists we will never feel
safe:
Unless war is
abolished the world will remain constantly in a state of madness and
desperation in which, because of the immense destructive power of modern
weapons, the danger of catastrophe will be imminent and probable at every
moment everywhere.
Ultimately, it
doesn’t matter whom we defeat. It doesn’t even matter who wins. Every time war
breaks out, peace loses and war wins. So far in human history, war is our
undefeated enemy. Our real victory will be ending war itself.
8. To get
peace, our faith must pass the test. St. John tells us “God is Love,” and we believe no
power is greater than God’s, that nothing is impossible for God. The whole
message of the gospels rests on the rock-solid conviction that love is the
strongest force in creation—that, in fact, love can conquer all. But this
implies, as an article of our faith, that love is stronger than violence—that
love can conquer violence. Do we really believe that? We know that
history is full of war because history is a long record of humans failing to
love. But Jesus promised “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you.” Not
some serene eternity in heaven, but a concrete, historical “Pacem in Terris”—Peace
on Earth! This means our faith calls us to believe that humans can harness love
as the “weapon” of reconciliation even for conflicts among nations. The idea
that “sometimes war is necessary” means either that we have failed God’s love
once again, or that we don’t really believe Jesus’ promise. Until our faith in
love is strong enough, we will never conquer war. And until we conquer war,
“Peace on Earth” will remain the unfulfilled promise of Christmas.
©
Bernard F. Swain PhD 2003
Send Your Comments and
Questions to bfswain@juno.com
Dr. Swain’s opinions do not represent the views of this parish or any
other official body.
Bernie Swain has devoted more than 30 years to adult spiritual formation in dioceses in the US, Canada, and France. Since 1991 he has maintained a private practice as trainer, teacher, and consultant to leaders in parishes and other religious organizations. He holds degrees in theology and political science from Holy Cross, Harvard, The University of Paris, and the University of Chicago. His writings include Liberating Leadership (Harper & Row, 1986) and more than 200 articles in periodicals such as The National Catholic Reporter, Commonweal, The Miami Herald, The Catholic Free Press, The Pilot, Harvard Theological Review, and Liturgy. A lifelong layperson, he lives in Boston with his wife and three children