Monday, March 28, 2022

Was Pacifism even an Option?

 


 

Judy and I are on an email list of about a hundred people who served in Vietnam with several Church-related non-governmental agencies during the 1960s and 70s.  That period was one of extraordinary conflict and change, socially, politically and personally for those of us who were directly involved in Vietnam as well as for the generation in the US who came of age during those decades. 

Participants on this list have shared reflections and feelings about our time in Vietnam, experiences that had a transformational effect on our lives for many of us.  Many chose to continue on a path of service to people living in poverty and conflict, often living for years in Asia or other parts of the world or working for peace and justice at home. 

Our two years in Vietnam was the first time we, growing up Lutheran, had encountered people committed to a pacifist stance on war.  These were mainly volunteers serving with the traditional peace churches, the Mennonites, Quakers, and Church of the Brethren. Many of the young men served as conscientious objectors.  Interestingly, one of our Lutheran colleagues had also taken the CO position, almost unheard of among Lutherans.  Neither in my early formation in church nor in studies at Luther college had I been exposed to this alternative life and theological view.  During the reformation, the early Reformers, such as Tyndale, Luther, and Calvin, were all proponents of the just war theory. Only the “radical reformers” i.e., the Anabaptists, rejected the notion of a just war.

Whether or not we were pacifists, almost all of us who served in Vietnam Christian Service believed the US war in Vietnam was not a “just” war.  I was beyond draft age, so did not have to face a choice between going to Vietnam as a soldier and resisting the draft.  In fact, during my senior year in high school I raised my right hand and joined the US Army Reserve, vowing to defend the flag and country by violent means if necessary.  It was just what young men did in the Minnesota rural community where I grew up.  There was a plaque on the back wall of our rural Lutheran church with the names of members of the congregation who had served in the military during the first and second world wars, with a star next to the ones who had lost their lives.  My brother had joined the Army before me and served two years during peacetime, between wars.  My father did not serve in the military, not because he tried to avoid it, but because he was a farmer and too old for the draft during WWII.

While growing up in a somewhat politically conservative community, my world view began to change to a more liberal one through college and graduate studies and travel. In 1960 I volunteered for a year in England in a Lutheran retreat center that served many WWII refugees from Eastern Europe who had settled in England.   Many of them had lived through the ravages of both Soviet communist repression and occupation and the terror of Naziism.   I met no pacifists during that year, but heard plenty of horror stories about the human cost of war. 

Recently there has been a lively exchange of opinions from some of the participants on our email list. It seems we are unanimous in the opinion that the invasion by Russia of their neighbor Ukraine is an abhorrent and unjustified act of war.  In this exchange lifelong pacifists struggle with questions of what they would do in practice, not just in theory, if one’s home or country was thus attacked. 

I have been thinking about this issue while not commenting on it, largely because I do not have clarity about my opinion on pacifism, even as I had great admiration for colleagues who took this stance and went to Vietnam to serve Vietnamese civilians suffering the ravages of that violent conflagration.  

Two Christian authors and thinkers who had an early impact on me were CS Lewis and Dietrich Bonhoeffer.  Recently I took a look to see what insights they provide on the question of just war theory and pacifism. I have read only a tiny portion of the many books written by these two prolific thinkers, but can point to Mere Christianity and The Screwtape Letters by Lewis, and The Cost of Discipleship and Life Together by Bonhoeffer as books that brought me to a fuller Christian commitment and more mature faith. 

Both Lewis and Bonhoeffer described their conversions to Christianity in the 1930s during the build up to the Second World War.  Though Bonhoeffer had been a lifelong Lutheran, he came to a fuller understanding and Christian commitment through his study of the Beatitudes. Lewis, a don at Oxford, describes his conversion as both an intellectual and surreptitious experience in his book Surprised by Joy.  He wrote “that while riding to a zoo in his brother’s motorcycle side car, when we set out, I did not believe that Jesus is the Son of God and when we reached the zoo I did”.

The BBC asked him to give a series of radio talks during the height of the blitzkrieg in London, and it is said that his voice became just as familiar to the anxious British people as was Winston Churchill’s.  These talks were later compiled into the book Mere Christianity which became a classic.  I read it while in England in 1961, a kind of conversion experience for me, though I had been raised as a Christian in my youth.

I re-read these two books recently with a mind sensitive to what Lewis had to say about war and peace, and specifically, pacifism.  I found a number of statements that showed he had a low opinion of pacifism, and, though I understand how experience forms belief, I wondered if he may not have searched the scriptures thoroughly to see the validity of opposition to war that some take.  

Darrell Cole, a professor of ethics at Drew University, summarizes the views of C. S. Lewis:

Lewis had been a soldier, so he knew what it was like to experience that essential nature of all battle, so aptly summarized by Homer as “men killed and killing.” Thus, Lewis possessed the mind of someone at home with just-war doctrine, and he had the experience to know its applicability to modern warfare. Indeed, his battle experience consisted of enduring the rigors of the trenches in the First World War, arguably the most horrible kind of warfare the world has ever witnessed. If there ever was a type of warfare designed to turn the most hardened veteran into a pacifist, surely it was the kind of warfare seen at the Somme in 1916. Yet Lewis was never a pacifist, and, in fact, he argued vigorously against pacifism on a number of occasions.

Lewis gave a paper to a pacifist society in 1941, stating fully the reasons why he was not a pacifist.  According to Lewis, pacifism fails to persuade on every level of moral judgment: facts, intuition, reasoning, and authority. For many modern Christians, there are two pertinent facts: War is evil, and war is necessary. Thus, such Christians are persuaded by the “facts” that they must do necessary evil. Lewis is too careful a thinker to fall into such a trap. For him, war is certainly disagreeable, but it is not necessarily evil.

I was disappointed to see CS Lewis take pot shots at pacifism in his books, and particularly when he argued that “ordinary citizens often lack sufficient training to decide whether a given war is winnable. Thus, Christians do not have the same duty or right as have their leaders to decide when a war is unjust”.

That idea goes completely contrary to my view.  Certainly, citizens should hold political leaders accountable for decisions that bring us into unjustifiable wars, e.g., Vietnam, Iraq, etc.  I doubt that politicians even consider the criterion of the just war theory in making decisions to send their armed forces into war. 

So then, turning to Dietrich Bonhoeffer, one of the most famous theologians of the 20th Century.   Certainly, we learn from his writing, but more so from his life and witness, especially the events surrounding his death.  He was executed by the Nazis just weeks before the end of the war after several years of imprisonment.  Why?  The narrative I have always heard was that it was because he joined in a plot to assassinate Hitler. 

An interesting article by Ted Grimsrud, a professor at Eastern Mennonite University, examined this history in a different light.  In this article he refers to the work of his colleague at EMU, Mark Thiessen Nation in a book he co-wrote with Anthony Siegrist and Daniel Umble (Bonhoeffer the Assassin? Challenging the Myth, Recovering the Call to Peacemakingpublished by Baker Academic in 2013). Grimsrud wrote:

Bonhoeffer was well known as a pacifist in the years leading up to his arrest, based in part on his exposition of the Sermon on the Mount in (the book) Discipleship. But then, the story goes, he had a change of heart given the exigencies of Nazi tyranny and joined with the conspiracy that sought to assassinate Hitler. The attempt on Hitler’s life failed, the conspirators were arrested, and most—including Bonhoeffer—put to death.

Bonhoeffer, then, has become kind of a poster boy for “Christian realism,” a recognition that pacifism is a fine ideal but at times in the real world one must, of necessity, turn to the sword and use “evil” methods to defeat a greater evil.

…. Now, this use of Bonhoeffer’s martyrdom may be, and of course has been vigorously debated for years. But maybe one of the premises that all sides to the debates have generally accepted—that Bonhoeffer indeed did take part in the effort to kill Hitler—is not actually true.

….. Bonhoeffer refused to fight in the military and found a way to do constructive ecumenical work while not violating his convictions. He was arrested mainly because he was known to have connections with assassination conspirators, but was convicted of draft evasion (in his case, a profoundly pacifist stance), not involvement in the plot. In the end, he was executed. We don’t know exactly why, but quite likely simply because he was seen as an enemy of the state (which had been his label from 1933)—one of thousands the Nazis put to death in the final months of the war as a concluding act of revenge.”

If this argument is true, it appears that Bonhoeffer died because he was a pacifist, not because he repudiated pacifism.  A pretty powerful Lutheran/Christian witness.   Would that have made a difference to Lutheran young men in the 60s if this point of view had been taught at Lutheran colleges and seminaries?  There were many young men, among them Christians, who resisted the draft, went to jail, or fled to Canada.  I don’t know if I would have had the courage to do that if faced with a draft notice at that time.  Again, the testing between theory and practice.   I didn’t even go into the streets to join the mass protests, though we did go to Vietnam for Lutheran World Relief, which I rationalize as a kind of activism in lieu of direct peaceful protest.

So, in the end pacifism was not an option in my youth, but now in my old age where do I stand?  If someone with a gun broke into my home to rob, I would not shoot that person, because what he would take from me is not worth my taking his life, and besides I do not own a gun.  If someone was violently attacking my grandchildren, I would try to put myself between them to try to physically dominate and restrain the attacker, but with poor results for me, no doubt.

On a gut level I agree with the just war doctrine though I think the military answer to world problems is too often contrived by politicians, ill-conceived, without a clarity of how to end it, and unnecessary.

But I do feel great empathy with the Ukrainian people as they defend themselves from a very unjust and increasingly barbarous attack by Putin.  I also remember the personal stories I heard from Estonian, Polish and Latvian survivors of WWII back in 1960, both soldiers and civilians who were caught up in the war and had no choice about it.  On the other hand, I witnessed death and destruction in Vietnam in a war I did not consider just.  There does seem to be clear criterion for making the distinction.

In the end, I am caught in a quandary by Jesus and the Beatitudes he taught.  I have never been able to practice those “blessed are the ___” principles to my own satisfaction. But I believe what the Gospel writer wrote is right:  Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the children of God. Mt 5:9

 

 

 

 

Wednesday, March 2, 2022

“Mountains Beyond Mountains: The Quest of Paul Farmer, a Man Who Would Cure the World” by Tracy Kidder

 


 

When I heard the news a little more than a week ago that Paul Farmer had died of a heart attack in his sleep, I immediately ordered a copy of this book that I had read shortly after it was published in 2003.  I was immensely impressed and inspired by this story then, and as I re-read the book I was inspired again, maybe even more so now.  Makes me want to know the rest of the story.

The author, Tracy Kidder, accompanied Farmer to many of the places where he made such an impact in the lives of thousands, through his tireless work to both treat disease in situations of extreme poverty as well as to create public health systems and models that were adopted by many countries and international health organizations. 

Back when I read this book, I was traveling around the world trying to do my bit to improve the lives of poor people through development projects.  Paul Farmer was also traveling to many counties, especially Haiti, Peru, Russia, and Chiapas state in Mexico, but I must admit that his passion and seemingly endless energy and intelligence far out strip any thing I ever contributed to our common endeavor.  I never ran across him even though we traveled to many of the same countries.

The book tells the story of Paul Farmer up until he was about 42 years old.  When he passed in Rwanda, he was just 62, and was spending time there teaching at the Hospital and University of Global Health Studies he founded.  His specialty was infectious diseases, especially tuberculosis and AIDS.

He and several others founded the organization Partners in Health, which initially was to raise support for the hospital and rural health program he established in the central highlands of Haiti, where some of the poorest of the poor in this hemisphere live. Now PIH works in many more countries with astounding success. The PIH model is one of accompaniment and forming partnerships with local organizations and governments.  That is same the approach I was promoting during the years I was with Lutheran World Relief, Heifer International and Agros International.

So much has been written about and by Paul Farmer. It is available on the internet, so I should not try to cover too much of his life and legacy in this short review. He was a visionary and humble, even as he gained international fame.  He was happiest when trekking out for hours (mountains beyond mountains) to visit the sick in shacks in the Haitian countryside.

He earned his MD from Harvard Medical School at the same time as he finished a Doctorate in Anthropology from Harvard. During his career he kept one foot in the US medical system on the staff of Brigham and Woman’s hospital in Boston and taught at Harvard Medical school.  The other foot was in Haiti, and later with the poor in other countries. 

I was intrigued to learn that he got much inspiration from Liberation Theology, which had arisen out of left leaning theologians of the Catholic Church in Latin America in the 1960 and 70s.  He was raised a Catholic but did not subscribe to much of that doctrine in later years, but certainly adopted the Catholic teachings on justice and service to the poor. 

One of the tenets of Liberation Theology was to take the “Preferential Option for the Poor” – which in Farmer’s shorthand was O for the P.  He said this:

The basis of our preferential option for the poor is to say: I accompany them not because they are all good, or because I am all good, but because God is good.

Many other Paul Farmer quotes can be found on the internet.  One that I have heard many times is this one, but I didn’t realize it came from him. 

If I am hungry, that is a material problem; if someone else is hungry, that is a spiritual problem.

If you are in market to be inspired in this world of seemingly endless injustice and poverty, I recommend this book. 

Jerry Aaker, March 2022