[Peace-discuss] Quondam et futurus
C. G. Estabrook
galliher at uiuc.edu
Thu Oct 11 11:57:16 CDT 2007
What follows was written for "Common Sense," an independent journal at
the University of Notre Dame, where I began teaching in 1969. I was
asked to compare and contrast the anti-war movement of those days with
the present version. Although the piece refers rather specifically to
Notre Dame, I thought that the general question might be of some
interest to readers of this list, where it has been ventilated a bit
already. Comments welcome. --CGE
===================================
THE ANTI-WAR MOVEMENT, THEN AND NOW
When I arrived at Notre Dame almost forty years ago as the most junior
member of the history faculty, I found a sophisticated anti-war movement
-- consisting of students, townspeople, and even some faculty -- already
in place in South Bend. The American electorate had just repudiated the
party that had invaded South Vietnam and killed a million poor peasants
(and more than five hundred American soldiers every month) by electing a
president who was said to have a secret plan for ending the war.
Richard Nixon's plan turned out to be even more intensive bombing -- the
secret bombing of Cambodia destroyed that society -- and threats to the
USSR and China, while reductions of the half-million US ground troops in
South Vietnam got underway. Meanwhile, the My Lai massacre showed how
the war was being fought in Vietnam, and the police murders of Black
Panther party members in Chicago showed how it was being fought at home.
I had been a graduate student at an east coast university where the
student anti-war movement had seized a central administration building
-- and then been expelled by a police riot, a small-scale version of the
violent tactics employed at the Democratic convention in Chicago the
previous summer. It had been more than seven years since the Kennedy
administration had attacked South Vietnam because the people of that
country did not have the good grace to accept the government that we had
picked out for them. A movement against that war had grown slowly,
though by the high summer of 1969, a majority of Americans felt about
Vietnam as they do about Iraq today, that the war must end. The
principal anti-war organization on US campuses, Students for a
Democratic Society -- which had begun, not as an anti-war group at all,
but, as the name implies, a semi-anarchist civil rights organization
("Let the people decide" was its original motto) -- could afford the
luxury that summer of an internal split and a vicious faction fight.
At Notre Dame I was surprised and pleased to see that a whole new set of
arguments -- ethical rather than political -- were available for use
against the war. Catholics were surprised to find that the American war
in Southeast Asia clearly failed the venerable (and I think quite sound)
analysis of the just war, when that was pointed out by Gordon Zahn, the
pacifist and World War II conscientious objector.
The Catholic church, transformed by the recent Vatican Council, was just
beginning to turn its attention to political questions, under the
impress of liberation movements around the world, from the north of
Ireland to the Congo, although Liberation Theology, which surfaced at a
Latin American episcopal conference in Colombia in 1968, was still
largely unknown in the Anglophone world. I was nevertheless able that
fall to hear the priest-poet Daniel Berrigan -- exercising the prophetic
role proper to priests and poets -- give a reading at Notre Dame that
adumbrated these things. He was not welcomed by the university
administration.
The student anti-war movement displeased the Notre Dame administration
even more. Journalist Alexander Cockburn described the incident (from a
piece I wrote for Common Sense) almost twenty years later:
"Back in the fall of 1969 Notre Dame had scheduled recruiting meetings
for the C.I.A. and Dow (Napalm) Chemical Company. The university has
long been a prime recruitment spot for the C.I.A.; Philip Agee and Ralph
McGehee [C.I.A. agents who exposed some of the Agency's crimes] are both
graduates. Ten students, foolishly assuming that the university believed
in open debate, sat down in front of the doors of the building where the
interviews were to be held. The university immediately called the police
and had them arrested. Notre Dame took action against the students in
both the state courts and within the university itself. The university
treated the issue like a case of student drunkenness, denying there was
any moral issue involved. Ultimately all the students were punished with
one form or another of suspension, and it was reported that the
university notified their draft boards that they were now available for
call-up."
The Notre Dame Ten included at least one person who courageously
resisted the draft and went to prison for it. With another twenty years
gone, Cockburn now asks (in the New Left Review, July-August 2007),
"Whatever Happened to the Anti-war Movement?" Is it just that the US
government was forced to abandon the draft in 1973, because the largely
conscript expeditionary force in South Vietnam mutinied, in essence, and
their refusal to fight forced their withdrawal that year?
"It is true that many of the soldiers deployed in Iraq have been
compelled to serve double tours of duty; that others were facing
criminal conviction and were offered the option of prison or enlistment
in the army; that others again are illegal immigrants offered a green
card or US citizenship in exchange for service in Iraq. But every member
of the US military there or in Afghanistan is, technically speaking, a
volunteer. In the near future, at least, no US administration will take
the political risk of trying to bring back the draft, even though lack
of manpower is now a very serious problem for the Pentagon. By the same
token, the absence of the draft is certainly a major factor in the
weakness of the anti-war movement. But though there was no draft in the
Reagan years, there was certainly a very vital movement opposing
Reagan’s efforts to destroy the Sandinista revolution in Nicaragua and
to crush the insurgency of the FMLN in El Salvador." (Noted commentator
Noam Chomsky points out that "a good part of the Central American war
was a war against the Catholic Church, which dared to adopt a
'preferential option for the poor.'")
Today, says Cockburn, "To say the anti-war movement is dead would be an
overstatement, but not by a large margin. Compared to kindred movements
in the 1960s and early 1970s, or to the struggles against Reagan’s wars
in Central America in the late 1980s, it is certainly inert." Why? What
follows is not an answer -- just an indication of some of the
differences between then and now.
DIFFERENT WARS
The US attacks on Southeast Asia in the 1960s and '70s, and those on
Southwest Asia in the 1990s to the present, are quite different -- the
former more murderous, the latter more dangerous; what is constant is US
policy, but it has evaluated the two regions differently. We can ignore
the strikingly parallel propaganda reasons offered for both wars --
stopping communism in the first, stopping terrorism in the second --
and even the identical warnings that the communists/terrorists would
"follow us home" if we failed to defeat them in Asia.
The timely arrival of the "terrorist threat" to take the place of the
lapsed "communist threat" -- in 1991 Colin Powell, then chairman of the
Joint Chiefs of Staff, complained that the US military suffered from an
"enemies gap" -- should alert us to how much both Republican and
Democratic administration have done to encourage each as a bete noire,
the fear of which justifies US policy undertaken for other reasons.
In what is reductively called the Vietnam War, the US may have killed
four million people -- not counting the aftermath in Cambodia or the
US-sponsored coup in Indonesia, which killed millions more. With a
similar reductive designation, the Iraq War has killed perhaps half that
number (given that the Clinton administration may have killed more
Iraqis with economic sanctions than the Bush II administration has done
with weapons) -- although the deaths in the 1980-88 war that the US
urged Iraq to undertake against Iran probably should be added to the
latter count.
The US war in Vietnam was a demonstration war. As the only undamaged
major country to emerge form Word War II, the US organized the economy
of the post-war world, and it had to make clear, less than twenty years
after the end of that war, that no society could remove itself from that
economy and pursue a form of development that contradicted US-approved
models. In a sense, the domino theory was correct: if the US were to
allow such a thing in Vietnam, other areas (like Indonesia) might
emulate it. As a study by the Woodrow Wilson Foundation put it in 1955,
the primary threat of communism was the economic transformation of the
communist powers "in ways which reduce their willingness and ability to
complement the industrial economies of the West."
Given its war aims, it is clear that the US won the Vietnam War, even if
it did not achieve its maximum goals. It destroyed the country and its
people: a generation later, thoroughly integrated with the US-dominated
world economy, Vietnam begs for Nike factories. But it is necessary to
emphasize that Vietnam was primarily a demonstration -- and far less
important to the US than Iraq is.
In Iraq, the question (as even Alan Greenspan recognizes) is oil. For
all that the Democrats are happy to attack, for electoral advantage, the
horrible mess that the Republican administration has made of the
invasion of Iraq, they support the same long-term policy in the Middle
East that the Republicans do.
For more than fifty years, the US has insisted upon control of Middle
East oil and gas, which are more extensive there than any place else on
earth. But not because the US needs them at home. The US imports only
a small bit of its domestic energy from the Middle East: most of it
comes from the Atlantic region -- the US itself, followed by Canada,
Nigeria, and Venezuela. But control of world energy resources gives the
US control of its major economic competitors in the world -- Europe and
northeast Asia (China and Japan). No US administration, Republican or
Democrat, will voluntarily leave Iraq, with the world's second largest
reserves of oil.
DIFFERENT OPPOSITIONS
Public opposition to the Vietnam War grew slowly -- much more slowly
than people recall. It took almost a decade after the initial invasion
of South Vietnam by the Kennedy administration to build to the point
that 70% of Americans believed, as they did, that the war was
"fundamentally wrong and immoral and not a mistake." That was the
source of what Henry Kissinger called the "Vietnam syndrome" of the
1970s and '80s -- the unwillingness on the part of the public to
countenance a war that looked like Vietnam. For that reason the Reagan
administration, which desperately wanted to put US troops into Latin
America, was unable to do so; because of it, the Central American
demonstration wars of the Reagan administration were driven underground
(and partly exposed in the Iran-Contra scandal).
It was the successful attack on Iraq in 1991 -- after the US rejected
Saddam Hussein's proposal to negotiate the various territorial claims in
the Middle East -- that prompted US President George Bush Sr. to say "By
God, we've kicked the Vietnam syndrome once and for all!"
Public opposition to the Iraq War developed in the reverse order to that
to the Vietnam war, although the outcome was similar: for some time now
more than 70% of Americans want the war to come to an end. Before the
invasion of March 2003, public opposition was much higher, even among
the US foreign policy elite -- the largest anti-war demonstrations in
history were held around the world early in that year.
Three factors led to the withdrawal of US ground forces from Vietnam in
1973: the courageous resistance of the Vietnamese people to invasion,
the revolt of the conscript US army in Vietnam, and finally the
continuing growth of an ever more deeply-rooted resistance among the
American people. All three factors are less present now: the Iraqi
resistance is weaker and still fragmented; the objections from a
mercenary and semi-mercenary military force are muted; and resistance
amongst Americans is broad but essentially neutralized. How has that
last come about?
Popular opposition to Vietnam could be neutralized by withdrawal in
1973, followed by some governmental reforms; that's not possible now. So
into the breech has stepped the Democratic party: in a landslide
statistically greater than the "Republican revolution" of 1994, the
Democrats were given control of the Congress in 2006 by an electorate
that wanted them to bring the war to an end. But both American
political parties -- the two wings of the Property Party, as Gore Vidal
said -- are substantially to the right of the American populace, on this
as on other issuers. For all the danger represented by the increasingly
isolated neocons in the US government (especially in regard to Iran),
the most nefarious role is being played by the Democrats, who have spent
this year neutralizing the mass anti-war sentiment by pretending to
oppose the war while in fact supporting it, as their repeated votes for
funding the war show.
[C. G. Estabrook (PhD, Harvard) is a Visiting Scholar at the University
of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, where he has taught in the departments of
sociology, religious studies and history.]
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