November 11 is
Armistice Day / Remembrance Day. Ninety-nine years ago, on the 11th hour of
the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918, fighting ceased in the “war to end
all wars.” People went on killing and dying right up until the
pre-designated moment, impacting nothing other than our understanding of
the stupidity of war.
Thirty million
soldiers had been killed or wounded and another seven million had been
taken captive during World War I. Even more would die from a flu epidemic
created by the war. Never before had people witnessed such industrialized
slaughter, with tens of thousands falling in a day to machine guns and
poison gas. After the war, more and more truth began to overtake the lies,
but whether people still believed or now resented the pro-war propaganda,
virtually every person in the United States wanted to see no more of war
ever again. Posters of Jesus shooting at Germans were left behind as the
churches along with everyone else now said that war was wrong. Al Jolson
wrote in 1920 to President Harding:
“The weary world is
waiting for
Peace forevermore
So take away the gun
From every mother’s son
And put an end to war.”
Mass slaughter and
war-created famines and disease epidemics have now become almost routine,
but we don’t have to stand for it. World Beyond War is organizing events
all over the world on November 11, 2017. So is Veterans For Peace. So is
WILPF. And RootsAction.org and many other organizations. Send us your
events here. We’ll
post them here.
Here are some ideas for events you might do:
Sit in your Congress
member’s or senator’s or MP’s office until they meet your demands for
peace.
Demonstrate on a
street corner.
Hold a forum to which
you invite great speakers.
Use the videos and
ideas from World Beyond War’s online study and action guide: Study War No More!
Screen and discuss a
video:
Make a presentation
using tools like these:
Do a Penny Poll that lets people determine what they’d
like the public budget to look like.
Educate people about
this:
Believe it or not,
November 11th was not made a holiday in order to celebrate war, support
troops, cheer the 17th year of occupying Afghanistan, thank anybody for a
supposed “service,” or make America great again. This day was made a
holiday in order to celebrate an armistice that ended what was up until
that point, in 1918, one of the worst things our species had thus far done
to itself, namely World War I.
World War I, then
known simply as the world war or the great war, had been marketed as a war
to end war. Celebrating its end was also understood as celebrating the end
of all wars. A ten-year campaign was launched in 1918 that in 1928 created
the Kellogg-Briand Pact, legally banning all wars. That treaty is still on
the books, which is why war making is a criminal act and how Nazis came to be
prosecuted for it.
“[O]n November 11, 1918, there ended the most
unnecessary, the most financially exhausting, and the most terribly fatal
of all the wars that the world has ever known. Twenty millions of men and
women, in that war, were killed outright, or died later from wounds. The
Spanish influenza, admittedly caused by the War and nothing else, killed,
in various lands, one hundred million persons more.” — Thomas Hall Shastid,
1927.
According to U.S.
Socialist Victor Berger, all the United States had gained from participation
in World War I was the flu and prohibition. It was not an uncommon view.
Millions of Americans who had supported World War I came, during the years
following its completion on November 11, 1918, to reject the idea that
anything could ever be gained through warfare.
Sherwood Eddy, who
coauthored “The Abolition of War” in 1924, wrote that he had been an early
and enthusiastic supporter of U.S. entry into World War I and had abhorred
pacifism. He had viewed the war as a religious crusade and had been reassured
by the fact that the United States entered the war on a Good Friday. At the
war front, as the battles raged, Eddy writes, “we told the soldiers that if
they would win we would give them a new world.”
Eddy seems, in a
typical manner, to have come to believe his own propaganda and to have
resolved to make good on the promise. “But I can remember,” he writes,
“that even during the war I began to be troubled by grave doubts and
misgivings of conscience.” It took him 10 years to arrive at the position of
complete Outlawry, that is to say, of wanting to legally outlaw all war. By
1924 Eddy believed that the campaign for Outlawry amounted, for him, to a
noble and glorious cause worthy of sacrifice, or what U.S. philosopher
William James had called “the moral equivalent of war.” Eddy now argued
that war was “unchristian.” Many came to share that view who a decade
earlier had believed Christianity required war. A major factor in this
shift was direct experience with the hell of modern warfare, an experience
captured for us by the British poet Wilfred Owen in these famous lines:
If in some smothering
dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
Pro patria mori.
The propaganda
machinery invented by President Woodrow Wilson and his Committee on Public
Information had drawn Americans into the war with exaggerated and fictional
tales of German atrocities in Belgium, posters depicting Jesus Christ in
khaki sighting down a gun barrel, and promises of selfless devotion to
making the world safe for democracy. The extent of the casualties was
hidden from the public as much as possible during the course of the war, but
by the time it was over many had learned something of war’s reality. And
many had come to resent the manipulation of noble emotions that had pulled
an independent nation into overseas barbarity.
However, the
propaganda that motivated the fighting was not immediately erased from
people’s minds. A war to end wars and make the world safe for democracy
cannot end without some lingering demand for peace and justice, or at least
for something more valuable than the flu and prohibition. Even those
rejecting the idea that the war could in any way help advance the cause of
peace aligned with all those wanting to avoid all future wars — a group
that probably encompassed most of the U.S. population.
As Wilson had talked
up peace as the official reason for going to war, countless souls had taken
him extremely seriously. “It is no exaggeration to say that where there had
been relatively few peace schemes before the World War,” writes Robert
Ferrell, “there now were hundreds and even thousands” in Europe and the
United States. The decade following the war was a decade of searching for
peace: “Peace echoed through so many sermons, speeches, and state papers
that it drove itself into the consciousness of everyone. Never in world
history was peace so great a desideratum, so much talked about, looked
toward, and planned for, as in the decade after the 1918 Armistice.”
Congress passed an
Armistice Day resolution calling for “exercises designed to perpetuate
peace through good will and mutual understanding … inviting the people of
the United States to observe the day in schools and churches with
appropriate ceremonies of friendly relations with all other peoples.”
Later, Congress added that November 11th was to be “a day dedicated to the
cause of world peace.”
While the ending of warfare
was celebrated every November 11th, veterans were treated no
better than they are today. When 17,000 veterans plus their families
and friends marched on Washington in 1932 to demand their bonuses, Douglas
MacArthur, George Patton, Dwight Eisenhower, and other heroes of the next
big war to come attacked the veterans, including by engaging in that
greatest of evils with which Saddam Hussein would be endlessly charged:
“using chemical weapons on their own people.” The weapons they used, just
like some of Hussein’s, originated in the U.S. of A.
It was only after
another world war, an even worse world war, a world war that has in many
ways never ended to this day, that Congress, following still another now
forgotten war — this one on Korea — changed the name of Armistice Day to
Veterans Day on June 1, 1954. And it was six-and-a-half years later that
Eisenhower warned us that the military industrial complex would completely
corrupt our society. Veterans Day is no longer, for most people, a day to
cheer the elimination of war or even to aspire to its abolition. Veterans
Day is not even a day on which to mourn or to question why suicide is the
top killer of U.S. troops or why so many veterans have no houses at all in
a nation in which one high-tech robber baron monopolist is hoarding $66
billion, and 400 of his closest friends have more money than half the
country.
It’s not even a day
to honestly, if sadistically, celebrate the fact that virtually all the
victims of U.S. wars are non-Americans, that our so-called wars have become
one-sided slaughters. Instead, it is a day on which to believe that war is
beautiful and good. Towns and cities and corporations and sports leagues
call it “military appreciation day” or “troop appreciation week” or
“genocide glorification month.” OK, I made up that last one. Just checking
if you’re paying attention.
World War One’s
environmental destruction is ongoing today. The development of new weapons
for World War I, including chemical weapons, still kills today. World War I
saw huge leaps forward in the art of propaganda still plagiarized today,
huge setbacks in the struggle for economic justice, and a culture more
militarized, more focused on stupid ideas like banning alcohol, and more
ready to restrict civil liberties in the name of nationalism, and all for
the bargain price, as one author calculated it at the time, of enough money
to have given a $2,500 home with $1,000 worth of furniture and five acres
of land to every family in Russia, most of the European nations, Canada, the
United States, and Australia, plus enough to give every city of over 20,000
a $2 million library, a $3 million hospital, a $20 million college, and
still enough left over to buy every piece of property in Germany and
Belgium. And it was all legal. Incredibly stupid, but totally legal.
Particular atrocities violated laws, but war was not criminal. It never had
been, but it soon would be.
We shouldn’t excuse
World War I on the grounds that nobody knew. It’s not as if wars have to be
fought in order to learn each time that war is hell. It’s not as if each
new type of weaponry suddenly makes war evil. It’s not as if war wasn’t
already the worst thing every created. It’s not as if people didn’t say so,
didn’t resist, didn’t propose alternatives, didn’t go to prison for their
convictions.
In 1915, Jane Addams
met with President Wilson and urged him to offer mediation to Europe.
Wilson praised the peace terms drafted by a conference of women for peace
held in the Hague. He received 10,000 telegrams from women asking him to
act. Historians believe that had he acted in 1915 or early in 1916 he might
very well have helped bring the Great War to an end under circumstances
that would have furthered a far more durable peace than the one made
eventually at Versailles. Wilson did act on the advice of Addams, and of
his Secretary of State William Jennings Bryan, but not until it was too
late. By the time he acted, the Germans did not trust a mediator who had
been aiding the British war effort. Wilson was left to campaign for reelection
on a platform of peace and then quickly propagandize and plunge the United
States into Europe’s war. And the number of progressives Wilson brought, at
least briefly, to the side of loving war makes Obama look like an amateur.
The Outlawry Movement
of the 1920s—the movement to outlaw war—sought to replace war with
arbitration, by first banning war and then developing a code of
international law and a court with the authority to settle disputes. The
first step was taken in 1928 with the Kellogg-Briand Pact, which banned all
war. Today 81 nations are party to that treaty, including the United
States, and many of them comply with it. I’d like to see additional
nations, poorer nations that were left out of the treaty, join it (which
they can do simply by stating that intention to the U.S. State Department)
and then urge the greatest purveyor of violence in the world to comply.
I wrote a book about the movement
that created that treaty, not just because we need to continue its work,
but also because we can learn from its methods. Here was a movement that
united people across the political spectrum, those for and against alcohol,
those for and against the League of Nations, with a proposal to criminalize
war. It was an uncomfortably large coalition. There were negotiations and
peace pacts between rival factions of the peace movement. There was a moral
case made that expected the best of people. War wasn’t opposed merely on
economic grounds or because it might kill people from our own country. It
was opposed as mass murder, as no less barbaric than duelling as a means of
settling individuals’ disputes. Here was a movement with a long-term vision
based on educating and organizing. There was an endless hurricane of
lobbying, but no endorsing of politicians, no aligning of a movement behind
a party. On the contrary, all four — yes, four — major parties were
compelled to line up behind the movement. Instead of Clint Eastwood talking
to a chair, the Republican National Convention of 1924 saw President
Coolidge promising to outlaw war if reelected.
And on August 27,
1928, in Paris, France, that scene happened that made it into a 1950s folk
song as a mighty room filled with men, and the papers they were signing
said they’d never fight again. And it was men, women were outside
protesting. And it was a pact among wealthy nations that nonetheless would
continue making war on and colonizing the poor. But it was a pact for peace
that ended wars and ended the acceptance of territorial gains made through
wars, except in Palestine. It was a treaty that still required a body of
law and an international court that we still do not have. But it was a
treaty that in 88 years those wealthy nations would, in relation to each
other, violate only once. Following World War II, the Kellogg-Briand Pact
was used to prosecute victor’s justice. And the big armed nations never
went to war with each other again, yet. And so, the pact is generally
considered to have failed. Imagine if we banned bribery, and the next year
threw Sheldon Adelson in prison, and nobody ever bribed again. Would we
declare the law a failure, throw it out, and declare bribery henceforth
legal as a matter of natural inevitability? Why should war be different? We
can and must be rid of war, and therefore incidentally we can and must be
rid of bribery, or — excuse me — campaign contributions.
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