“What if
they gave a war and nobody came?” This was one of the better bumper-sticker
messages of the Vietnam War years. Its sentiments provide an insight
to the question of whether it is truly possible to end the war
system.
There is
a way to end all wars, and the means of doing so can be stated
in the following words: we must learn to love our children
and grandchildren more than we do the state. That’s it. No
international treaties; no candlelight vigils; no referenda by
the electorate; no abstract philosophic doctrines to recite. All
that is required to end the wholesale butchery that most of us
are eager to celebrate with the waving of flags is for each of
us to put the faces of our children and grandchildren alongside
the image of the state and ask ourselves: which am I prepared
to sacrifice for the sake of the other?
There is
a common assumption, the falsity of which is most often revealed
in times of crisis, namely, that parents have an intense love
for their children. When the costs of protecting and fostering
the interests of our children are relatively low, this statement
probably finds a great deal of support in human behavior. I would
go even further and, consistent with Richard Dawkins’ book The
Selfish Gene, add that most parents would likely risk
their own lives to save those of their offspring. I have seen
mother birds fake an injury to themselves in order to draw a predator
away from her nest of chicks, a practice as instinctively based
as that of a human mother putting her children behind her when
confronted by an attacker. What we think of as our “free will”
is not always the product of our conscious thinking, but is often
driven by a genetic disposition to continue itself into another
generation.
If this is
so, what kind of “crisis” could cause parents to override these
natural tendencies to protect their children from harm or death?
This inquiry raises the question of “who” we are. If, as I believe
to be beyond all doubt, each of us is motivated by self-interest,
“who” is the “self” whose interests we are fostering? Is it our
protoplasmic and/or egoistic sense of being? Does it include our
extended family relationships, and perhaps that of our friends,
neighbors, and work associates? In the words of Alice’s caterpillar,
“who are you?”
Since early
childhood, our minds have been carefully conditioned – by institutions
presuming the authority to train us in mindsets that serve their
interests – to regard our subservience to organizational purposes
as an integral part of who we are. In a secular society, such
subservience is to the state. This is not simply a matter of being
trained to favor state interests over our own, but
of learning to have such interests coalesce into a unified sense
of self.
It is in
this way that we develop “ego-boundary” definitions of “who” we
are. Such categories go far beyond political classifications,
to include race, nationality, religion, gender, ethnicity, lifestyle,
ideology, or any of numerous other categories by which we have
come to think of “ourselves.”
In our politically-structured
world, most of us have learned to identify ourselves through the
nation-state of which we are a part. From this transformation
from our biological/egoistic definition of “self” into a “nation”
or “state” meaning, our minds become prepared – like that of a
mother bird – to risk our individual lives in order to protect
our enlarged definition of “self.” It is a mistake to assume that
we are “sacrificing” our sense of self in going off to war: the
interests of the nation-state are the self-interests of
the person who has identified himself with this ego-boundary.
This is what drives the suicide-bomber to destroy both himself
and others.
How does
one break into this vicious circle of institutionalized and sanctified
destruction and put an end to it? We make the feeble excuse that
wars will end when “others” change their ways and decide to quit
the practice. But you have no control over others. The illusion
that you do is what creates the war system. Since war involves
two or more parties, and you cannot control the energies of others,
your efforts to end wars is necessarily confined to the withdrawing
of your participation in the system.
But how is
this to be done? Our conditioning often leads us to suppose that
political involvement – such as working on behalf of candidates
– is the way out of war’s destructive ways. But politics is
the war system, whether conducted against domestic or
foreign enemies. Believing that you can excise the most
vicious and destructive part from the political thinking that
spawns it, is like believing you can end cirrhosis of the liver
without confronting the addiction of alcoholism. Such an approach
is a total evasion of the problem. It is as though ending wars
is only a matter of generating popular slogans, spreading the
use of bumper-stickers, or erecting international scarecrows to
ward off the same forces that underlie all political action.
If you have
been conditioned to see yourself as a manifestation of the “ego-boundaries”
with which you have identified yourself, is it not evident that
examining your own thinking – including the processes of your
conditioning – might be a place to begin? Does your very soul
insist – as it was trained to do – upon maintaining its “pledge-of-allegiance”
commitment to the state? If you consider your existence
subordinate to the state’s interests, upon what basis could you
urge a higher purpose for your children?
During the
Vietnam War years, I recall hearing a few fathers – themselves
veterans of World War II – expressing shame over their sons who
fled to Canada rather than getting themselves fed into the war
machine. I also recalled the statement whose author I no longer
remember that a man had a moral duty to not allow his children
to grow up under tyranny. What pathetic beings, and what terrible
parents, were those men who felt disgraced by sons who regarded
their well-being more highly than they did that of the state.
There are
few more depraved forms of child abuse than those found in parents
not only allowing, but eagerly promoting, the sacrifice
of their children to any purpose. This tendency is often brought
on, I suppose, by a lack of awareness of the harm faced by the
child. Politics feeds and depends upon an ignorance of the costs
of its undertakings, a lack of awareness that government schools,
the media, and other statist voices have no interest in helping
people to overcome. If we were able to comprehend the consequences
implicit in our present action, we would be less inclined to act
without assessing the costs of our doing so.
If your child
wished to participate in military action that others portray as
“heroic” – an image reinforced by movies starring the likes of
John Wayne (who had the good judgment to remain out of World War
II!) – your sense of parental love and responsibility might dictate
your taking him or her to visit a veterans hospital or cemetery
to see the costs others have borne.
I disagree
with those who do not want to see military caskets or the bodies
of dead children shown on television. The sociopaths who tune
in to Faux News in order to tune out to reality should
– along with other defenders of the war system – be provided a
steady showing of decapitated children, or bodies blown apart
by cluster bombs. Likewise, parents whose children are of military
age and inclination should be shown photographs of soldiers blown
into many pieces by an artillery shell. The purpose of making
such pictures available is not to gratify perverted tastes,
but to give everyone a demonstration of the real costs of warfare.
It is the
essence of responsible behavior for individuals to experience
all the costs of undertakings of which they approve. Most of us
prefer to hide behind and take refuge in our ignorance. Perhaps
pictures of dead and maimed soldiers and children can help overcome
this trait, tempering the enthusiasm with which so many people
feed their children to the war machine.
How
do we dismantle the ego-boundary structures in our mind, and walk
away from the citadels of state power? Is it possible for us to
discover how to be an American – or an Australian, Norwegian,
or Egyptian – without attaching existential importance to that
fact? If so, we will likely end the divisions between ourselves
and others and end our contributions to the war system that is
the state. We will then be able to embrace our children and
grandchildren with the love we have hitherto given to the nation-state,
and no longer be willing to sacrifice their lives in the playing
of this insane game.
Perhaps
Dawkins’ book may help us discover the fact of our genetic commonality
with all human beings, an awareness that will help us break down
the walls states find it advantageous to their interests to erect
among us. By ending the separation between “us” and “them,” we
may find ourselves unwilling to sacrifice the lives of other people’s
children for the “offense” of having been born in the “wrong”
country, or of parents of the “wrong” religious views. Can the
war system long survive if the anger and hatred generated by political
systems were to be dissipated by the forces of love for our children?