Halting a succession of evil.
Littell, Franklin H.
One of the most treasured beliefs of Christians is summed up in the
concept of "apostolic succession." Memory is set in the
context of the covenant of fathers and sons, of mothers and daughters.
We are not bounded in a fellowship of faith merely contemporary; rather,
the "communion of saints" has vertical as well as horizontal
dimensions.
Yet, the "dialogue with the past" - the conversation and
fellowship that bridges the generations - is difficult to sustain. The
twentieth century especially, the "Age of Genocide," has a
landscape with great psychic fissures across which friendly hands can
hardly reach, and compassionate voices can scarcely be heard. There is
also the problem of denial. After a massive traumatic event such as the
genocide of the Armenians or the genocide of the Jews, both the victims
and the perpetrators are driven to suppress recollection - the victims
in order to get on with life, the perpetrators to deny their full
measure of guilt. In both groups there is a noteworthy psychological
drive to thrust the event into the storeroom of forgetfulness and lock
the door.
How then shall a massive genocide, a caesura in the course of
history, be treated? The urge is strong to speak of it as an event
safely relegated to the past, a shadowy specter to be drawn from the
well of memory only on required occasions. Yet, this approach chokes the
communication between the past and the present and muffles the messages
to be passed between the generations if the lessons for the present and
future are to be mastered. Refusing to deal rationally with the event,
individuals in the first generation may plant land mines that explode
and damage their children and grandchildren.
Memory and History
Not infrequently, art forms are better able to convey the difficult
truths than pedestrian writing. There is a "Monument against
Fascism" in Harburg, a suburb of Hamburg, Germany, that superbly
puts the ambiguous dialectic between memory, the dialogue with the past,
and forgetfulness, the road to exile. Brilliantly conceived and executed
by Jochen Gerz and Eti Shalev-Gerz, the monument consisted of a tall
shaft upon which the public was invited to scribble graffiti during the
moments of recollecting the abuse of human persons during the years of
the German Third Reich. The public was thus invited to join actively in
the "creation" of the memorial. The engineering feat by which
the monument, unveiled in 1986, sank slowly into the ground was
remarkable. The concept was powerful. In its construction, the chamber
of disappearance is as deep as the monument is high. In the words of the
artists, "One clay it will have disappeared completely, and the
site of the Harburg monument against fascism will be empty. In the end,
it is only we ourselves who can rise up against injustice."(1) The
moral challenge to the one who passes by is clear. One must internalize in the present tense the reality of history in the past tense.
Moreover, the way in which human memory commonly works is thus made
graphic. However, the moral ambiguity of the symbol - the disappearance
of the pylon - is evident. Is the Nazi genocide of the Jews destined to
disappear into the forgotten caves of the human psyche? Has the genocide
of the Armenians receded, as Adolf Hitler assumed,(2) even deeper into
the well of forgetfulness?
Without any religious imperative to remember, and approaching only
from the position of the scientific method, a sensitive student of
history might feel compelled to hope that these memories will not
disappear back into Mother Earth until European civilization itself
disappears. For, both the Armenian genocide and the genocide of the Jews
spotlight inescapably certain pathological conditions that developed in
Western civilization.(3) We are not permitted to desist from analysis of
these conditions, nor may we cease to draw the lessons from such
analysis.
Genocide is the dark underside of "the Holy Muslim
Empire" and "the Holy Christian Empire" in their sundry
manifestations. The day will come when the study of genocide will not be
solely a highly specialized field: Like pathology in any good medical
school, "Holocaust and Genocide" will be an area where every
serious student will take at least one course.
There is a another question deeper than the rational, one that
concerns the nature of history itself - and our interaction with the
events of which we are a part. Our response to this question defines us
as human persons. In the words of Ortega:
The most radical division that it is possible to make of humanity
is that which splits it into two classes of creatures: those who make
great demands on themselves, piling up difficulties and duties; and
those who demand nothing special of themselves, but for whom to live is
to be every moment what they already are, without imposing on themselves
any effort towards perfection.(4)
Are we among those who take burdens on ourselves? Our awareness
that we were not called to be balcony-sitters - a position to which
unthinking and uncaring academics are prone - brings us to Yerevan,
where we realize that an event that occurred eighty years ago is more
vivid and a more definitive part of our lives than much that happened a
week ago. History is not the dead hand of the past weighing clown the
present; history is the covenant of fathers and sons and of mothers and
daughters. In the dialogue with the past, we encounter sources of
character formation as powerful as our participation in contemporary
events, as gripping as our hope of things to come.
No one has expressed this continuum of our history better than a
saint of the Latin church, Augustine of Hippo, who wrote in his
Confessions:
[Let him see that] in the Eternal nothing passeth away, but that
the whole is present; but no time is wholly present; and let him see
that all time past is forced on by the future, and that all the future
follows from the past, and that all, both past and future, is created
and issues from that which is always present . . .
There are three times: a present of things past, a present of
things present, and a present of things future.(5)
To the person on the street, "history" is a thing of the
past - if he or she thinks of such things at all. To the perceptive,
however, history is a continuum binding together past, present, and
future.
Speaking precisely to the practical point, Archbishop Tarkom
Manoogian stated at the sixtieth-anniversary memorial conference in New
York City(6) that the Armenian genocide showed that it could be done:
There was a policy of genocide by a government that went unchecked by
other powers, and in time the possibility of such government policy
built up to the Nazi genocide of the Jews. Nor, of course, did the
succession stop at Auschwitz. After genocidal actions by governments in
Cambodia, the Sudan, Burundi and Rwanda, and "Bosnia," we are
coming to speak of this twentieth century, which opened with the
genocide of the Armenians, as the "Age of Genocide." The
"model," to risk use of a coldly technical term from
sociology, of the assault on the Armenians during the dissolution of the
Ottoman Empire ("the Holy Muslim Empire") has had many
spiritual and political progeny.
Turning Memories into Lessons
Memory enters our present awareness at several levels, two of which
should be distinguished here. First, there is the memory, often evoked
by religious liturgies, that directs us to meditation, prayer, and
self-examination. Second, there is recollection, often reinforced by
research and discussion in seminars and conferences, that points toward
learning the lessons of an event. Memory of the first order frequently
concentrates, as Elie Wiesel and other poets insist, upon the silence of
the word.(7) Memory of the second order points toward a science to
prevent future genocides, toward an Early Warning System on potentially
genocidal situations.
Holding these two orders of memory together is no mean feat, as we
learn from the world center of Holocaust memory and study in Jerusalem -
Yad Vashem - and as those of us who worked on the Holocaust Museum in
Washington, DC, became painfully aware. The museum dedicated now in
Yerevan must serve both as a shrine and as a center of study and
publication, serving both levels of memory.
A museum puts to us the question of memory - of our identity in the
continuum of history. The sensibilities of the survivors and their
descendants must be respected, as must the zeal of the scholars to
analyze "Why?" and "How can genocide be prevented?"
On the one hand a posture of preciousness in the inner circle must be
muted: "Only a Jew [or Armenian] can understand." Just as
certainly, on the other hand, those carrying on research must avoid the
Eiskalt indifference to the human measure that marked the style of the
organizers of the crime itself. Scientists must carry themselves in
awareness that they are laying profane hands on sacred material - that
one's kind of remembering is an activity that carries its own
perils, unless it is accompanied by a pledge to life and serves as an
exercise in remembering for the future.
Specifying a Crime
Combining moral passion and intellectual rigor, some lessons are
beginning to emerge. An elementary science is appearing for the
detection, identification, and timely anticipation of genocidal
situations.
Before we press on, let us remind ourselves of the origin and
meaning of this word "genocide," invented in 1943 and, since
1951, a section in the law of nations. In Axis Rule in Occupied Europe,
Raphael Lemkin introduced the new word and gave it theoretical
grounding. The phenomenon was ancient, and some teachers had condemned
it as a sin; Lemkin aimed to give it political and legal definition as a
crime. He was dissatisfied with the presuppositions that informed the
Hague Conventions, specifically the traditional assumption that
"war is directed against sovereigns and armies, not against
subjects and civilians."(8) Lemkin understood that modern war -
unlike the wars of past history - is directed against peoples. In point
of fact, beginning with World War I, civilians have suffered much more
extensively than those in uniform.
According to Lemkin, genocide has two phases: "[O]ne,
destruction of the national pattern of the oppressed group; the other,
the imposition of the national pattern of the oppressor."(9) In the
Genocide Convention, the crime is spelled out in rather precise detail.
Included in the actions to be prevented or punished are the following:
a) killing members of the group;
b) causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group;
c) deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life
calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part;
d) imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group;
e) forcibly transferring children of the group to another
group.(10)
Punishable acts include conspiracy, incitement, attempt, and
complicity as well as direct performance - the actual accomplishment -
of genocidal deeds. No ethnic, cultural, or religious community may be
targeted for assault, but, due to Soviet pressure, political groups were
excluded from the Genocide Convention when it became a part of
international law in 1951.
Although the parameters of "genocide" are still being
debated, the general outlines of the concept have emerged. Genocide, in
sum, is a wilful crime, performed by criminals, and in a different
category from a flood or an earthquake or a side-effect of modern war. A
science in combatting it is beginning to emerge, to make timely
identification of potentially genocidal movements and moments and to try
to punish the criminals if they gain power and act contrary to the laws
governing genocide.
Defining a Science
The cornerstone of a science is predictability. An interview
published on the first page of the Fall, 1994, Newsletter of the
[American] Institute for the Study of Genocide(11) revealed that the
concept of prediction is gaining standing. Headed "Genocide in
Rwanda Was Foreseen and Could Have Been Deterred," the interview
summarized the factors that provide a powerful indication that some
specialists are mastering the science of prediction in respect to
genocidal situations. Careful reporting alone is no longer enough to
fulfill acceptably the academics' vocational and ethical
responsibilities. The scientist has an obligation both to act and to
teach by acting.
In Rwanda the two chief factors seem to have been irresponsible
incitement to murder by the radio station controlled by the government
then in power, along with the equipment of spontaneously gathered
unofficial militia who were turned loose to kill the targeted
minority.(12) Those working to create a reliable Early Warning System
will recall immediately that government incitement and the use of
criminal elements to staff the killing units were crucial aspects of the
genocide of the Armenians.
What other factors are now becoming identified as indicative - even
predictive - of a genocidal situation? Are they now in sufficient
number, with enough of a consensus among specialists, that study of
genocide can be reckoned a science, not only a painful exercise in
reporting pathological events?(13) We do not have a science when someone
reports, however accurately, the ravages of an epidemic; we have a
science when specialists have reached the point where, sitting around a
table, they can say that, if things continue as they are, an epidemic
will certainly occur.
Early Warning System
In 1969 the present writer published a book(14) that provided a
"grid" of predictability - an "Early Warning System"
- in reference to genocidal situations. More exactly, there were two
"grids" that had been developed during twenty years of field
observation in Germany and North America, followed by a decade of
graduate seminars. The first "grid" was an attempt to identify
the ideological characteristics of totalitarian - potentially genocidal
- movements.(15) The second "grid" identified and described
the chief characteristics of potentially genocidal movements as
expressed in characteristic styles of political action.(16)
The basic concept ("the grid") drew upon the figure of
the "kairos," an archetype of the ancient astrologers (before
astrology, astronomy, and mathematics became distinct and separate
fields): the teaching that when the heavenly bodies are in certain
conjunctions, favorable or unfavorable impact is made upon nations
and/or rulers. The fifteen points in a "grid" comprise a way
of identification, of singling out certain points as more important than
others, of relating one identifying characteristic to others. No one
"star" (factor) is sufficient for alarm; however, when nine or
ten "stars" are moving into conjunction, with a certain
relationship to each other, the alarm bells should start ringing and the
warning flags be raised.
From study of the diversionary strategy of the Russian tsars in
targeting the Jewish stetl for attack by the "Black Legions,"
by analysis of the Turkish genocide of the Armenians, by research in the
Nazi genocide of the Jews, and by attention to the contemporary use of
genocide as a strategy of some contemporary despots and dictators, we
are now in a position to identify a potentially genocidal situation
(kairos).
To fix the concept of an Early Warning System securely in group
memory, introducing a "memorization device," so to speak, let
me again state a basic axiom derived from study of the Nazi genocide of
the Jews: The Nazi Party was a terrorist movement for some years before
it became a criminal government with the power to commit genocide. It
will be helpful to remember that genocide is a crime (not a flood or an
earthquake), that the marks of a potentially genocidal movement can be
identified in advance of its accession to power, and that such cadres
can be rendered impotent in timely fashion if the will exists to
differentiate between disloyal and loyal oppositions, between individual
acts of violence and actions plotted and executed by terrorist
movements.(17)
Our political task as free peoples is two-fold. First, we must
unite with others in suppressing potentially genocidal movements, where
necessary across national boundaries.(18) There can be no sanctuary for
members of potentially genocidal movements. Second, we must unite with
others to make certain that where the crime occurs it shall be
indemnified and the criminals punished. Punishment for genocidal crimes
already committed is clue both for the sake of justice and to inhibit
others who might contemplate a like course of political action.
What, then, are major factors that we can identify today, factors
that drive genocide forward as a political option? How can prediction be
made efficient and official? We are not now referring to the astounding
prescience that led the great Zionist leader, Max Nordau, to predict in
1911 that, unless Europe radically changed the direction it was taking,
6,000,000 Jews would die.(19) We are talking about lessons learned by
serious students of the Armenian and other genocides in this century.
Such scientific study requires the critical, analytical, and comparative
approach to evidence - without, however, compromising the religious or
philosophical issue of the uniqueness of the Armenian and Jewish
experiences. For example, in an earlier study this writer identified no
less than thirteen direct parallels between the Armenian and Jewish
experiences.(20)
Creating the Genocidal Culture
Rather than discuss the minutiae of the already published
"grid," let us turn to a consideration of the factors that
create a genocidal culture - the "ocean" within which the
potentially genocidal "schools of fish" can swim and feed.
There were, of course, anticipatory assaults upon targeted
minorities before the 1915 genocide of the Armenians. One of the most
infamous involved the strategy of the advisors to the Russian tsars -
men such as Konstantin Pobedonostsev (1827-1907) - to divert the
masses' attention from their miseries by incitement against the
Jews. From them came the infamous tsarist formula for resolving
"the Jewish problem" - one-third would be killed, one-third
forced to convert, and one-third driven into exile. It is worth noting
that the Russian use of attacks on the Jews as a governmental strategy,
a political crime to be distinguished from the venerable sin of
preaching contempt, arose in the same decade that Wilhelm Mart
(1818-1904) was inventing the word "Antisemitismus" (often
wrongly translated "anti-Semitism") and inventing for
Jew-baiting an ideological and pseudo-scientific base.
One of the most glaring danger signals, like the use of criminal
elements in a regime's police force mentioned above, is the
political manipulation of religious slogans to justify the attacks.
Here, in a corruptive abuse of religion, we find a major factor in
creating a genocidal culture. Religious leaders have been guilty for
their failure to resist wickedness, a guilt during the German Third
Reich for which the Vatican and several Protestant judicatories have
recently expressed remorse. Many were actually accessories, active
initiators, not just unworthy and passive spectators. Orthodox priests,
as well as the President of the Holy Synod, were guilty in the attacks
on the Jews. Muslim mullahs earlier preached hatred of the Christian
Armenians and incited mobs, as today they use the Language of Assault
against "the Jews." Roman Catholic and Protestant church
leaders - and not only in "Greater Germany!" - praised Hitler,
saluted him, and justified his murderous policies.
The situation of the Armenian Christians - who for a millennium and
a half had kept the faith, an island, as it were, in the midst of a sea
of Islam - was vastly different from that of a privileged
"Christendom" in Eastern and Western Europe. Nevertheless,
there are stunning parallels between the sufferings of the Armenians in
the midst of an Islam in spiritual decline and the sufferings of the
Jews in the midst of a European Christian establishment in decline.
In the early years of this century, during the slaughter of the
Christian Armenians in the midst of Islam, the massacres at Kishinev
gave a sign of the impending doom of the Jews in
"Christendom." The agony of the Jewish poet Hayyim Nachman
Bialik's "In the City of Death" is matched by the
Armenian poet Daniel Varuzhan's "The Carnage":
The command! There. In the sermon in Pilal
Rancor thrusts like the horns of a bull;
In the diligent courtyards of the mosques,
Sticks are shaped, whips are weaved
With venomous snakes.
Sabers are sharpened.(21)
The structural parallels between the lot of the Armenians in the
Muslim Ottoman Empire and the status of Jews in Imperial Germany - prior
to the genocides - have been finely summarized by Robert Melson in
Revolution and Genocide.(22)
During the century and a half of Western Christendom's
spiritual and ethical decline, the moral failure of church leadership
was so patent that from time to time committed and sensitive individual
Christians protested. To give but one illustration, note the words of a
prominent Philadelphia Christian at the time of the Kishinev massacres
(1903, 1905). Judge James G. Gordon referred to the pogrom at Kishinev
as follows:
The carnage at Kishineff is Christianity's contribution to the
opening history of the twentieth century of the Christian era.(23)
Yes, the slaughter at Kishineff should be met with a protest from
America. The protest, however, should not go to the Czar of Russia, but
to the Holy Synod, the head of the Greek Church, representing organized
Christianity in Russia.
It is Christianity that is on trial, and not the government of the
Czar. The Jew comes out of this carnage, as he has always come out of
persecution in the past, with a character more Christian than his
Christian persecutor.
The Russian barbarities concern the future status of the Jew less
than the future status of Christianity.(24)
We hear similar charges levied against the established Christian
churches of Germany and its allies for their wickedness during the Nazi
genocide of the Jews - by individual German theologians as well as by
outsiders.
How did those who verbalize "the Gospel of Love" slide
into such compromise and complicity? This question has made the frontier
between the Christians and the Jews the confrontation most intensely
studied and debated by our theologians today. When the Christian church
was a Jewish sect, using the language of one Jewish caucus against
another, the religious situation may not have been pleasant - but it was
not genocidal in potentiality. When in time the gentile churches began
to direct language against "the Jews" that sundry Jewish
religious Fraktionen in the first generations had used against each
other, the bitter seed of genocidal Antisemitism was planted.(25) The
language of intense fraternal debate became at that point the language
of external assault.(26)
We Christians often wish, in this world of intense conflict, that
we could find Muslim counterparts as ready to discuss past events and to
work today for a better future as we have found some Jewish teachers to
be. Our primary task within the churches, however, is not to lecture the
rabbis or the mullahs about their responsibilities; what they teach and
do is written in the Book of Life. Our present task is to correct the
Christian preaching and teaching of contempt, especially that directed
against the Jewish people and the Jewish state of Israel.
In the free society, however, we also have the obligation to help
identify and suppress potentially genocidal movements. In the United
Nations, we have the obligation to support the democratic governments in
their efforts to suppress terrorism and to thwart regimes that sponsor
the criminals.
Religious Establishments in Dissolution
The process of self-examination and correction takes us deep into
the past dimension of Christian history. The task calls for a rare
quality of Spirit-wrestling and intellectual radicalism.
In some circles it has become fashionable to speak of early
Christian "anti-Judaism" rather than "Antisemitism,"
but to the victim this is a distinction without a difference. It also
lifts from the churches the guilt of preaching and teaching theological
Antisemitism, the closed system of rejection of the Jews that the
midrashim of the church Fathers developed. The final doctrinal formulae
of Christian triumphalism carried the genocidal note. In the
super-sessionist scheme of the periodization of history, the "New
Israel" replaces the "Old" Israel; the church replaces
the Jewish people as the carrier of history; the New Covenant supersedes
the Old Covenant; God is through with the Jews. A parallel scheme is
found in Muslim historiography's supersession of both the Jews and
the Christians. Eventually, the affirmative expression of Christian
identity through witness to incarnate love was drowned out - from time
to time, and especially in European Christendom in dissolution - by the
negative expression of Christian identity: "At least we're not
Jews!"
The second factor that transmuted the early family quarrel into
potential genocide was the transition of Christian apologetic from
debate in the churches to coercive civil law, enforced by the
emperors' armies. Constantine (ruled 306-37 C.E.) and Justinian
(ruled 527-65 C.E.) created the conditions in which heresy and treason
were synonymous, the social and political climate in which internal
edicts and decrees against "Jews and heretics" were routinized
and cruelly enforced. (An ancient Christian church such as the Armenian,
which had resisted the controls of both imperial Constantinople and
imperial Rome, later suffered greatly from the same kind of prideful
hostility from Muslim rulers and religious who confused imperial
political power with spiritual authority.)
For a millennium and a half, right through the sixteenth-century
Magisterial Reformation, with its continued commitment to political
coercion of religion, this "model" for the Good Society went
virtually unchanged. The new view of the relations of church and state,
carrying the concept of "religious liberty"- of greatest
importance to Jews and others out of step with prevailing opinions -
came from two sources outside the established Protestant and Roman
Catholic churches of Western Europe: the Radical Reformation of the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and the Enlightenment of the
eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The spiritual progeny of the
Radical Reformation developed new expressions of Christian faithfulness
different from religious conformity coerced by the state. The children
of the Enlightenment (haskelah) dissolved "Christendom" in the
name of individual freedom and left an empty public square.
By at least the 1840's, European "Christendom" was
in dissolution. The established churches still kept up the facade, but
they had lost the two most important elements in modern society: the
intellectuals, and the proletariat. The devaluation of the union of
church and state, a union that had become so subversive of both high
religion and sound politics, came in different ways to the West and the
East. But, in both areas, as the leaders failed and the peoples fell
away from the churches, the old culture-religions often were replaced by
substitute-religious loyalties and Weltanschauungen.(27) For example, a
fervently energetic Ersatzreligion such as Nazism or an intellectually
sophisticated ideology such as Scientific Socialism
("Marxism") was filling a space left empty by disintegrating
state churches.
The last great effort to consolidate a mighty
"Christendom" by combined religious and political force had
been undertaken by Ferdinand and Isabella in the Iberian peninsula in
the late fifteenth century. For the first time, religious hostility to
the Jews was blended with racist notions of tainted Jewish blood. In the
pan-Turkic or pan-Turanian creed, which had such fatal consequences for
the Armenians, the dream of "ethnic cleansing" was basic. In
such a belief system a "new man" was envisioned, in a vulgar
secularization of the religious vision of a transformed humanity. The
exponents of the new imperial creeds and programs were able to exploit
cultures open to genocide, with the masses spiritually unformed and
undisciplined and thus wide open to the evocation of archaic religious
visions. The dream of recovering an Age of Heroes from the past - or of
creating a modern "Superman" fit for a glorious future - was
endemic in both Ittihadist and Nazi eschatology.
Yet, the primary genocides were "modern" - rational,
cold-blooded, scientific, and linked to emancipated views of humankind,
the nation, and human progress. Neither Islam nor Christendom is thereby
excused, but the fact is that those who directed the Armenian genocide
and the genocide of the Jews were not fervent Muslims or Christians;
almost without exception, from the perspective of the traditional
religions, they were case studies in marginality.(28) Talaat Pasha and
Behaeddin Shakir, Adolf Hitler and Heinrich Himmler were illustrations
of genealogical, social, ethnic, religious, and economic marginality. In
both situations, the marginals were carriers of fervent
substitute-religions that grew up and flourished in the fetid swamps of
traditional religious cultures in dissolution. Their political formation
for the elite of the movement even takes on the character and atmosphere
of a substitute church, a free religious society.(29) Themselves
children of an enlightened modernity, they played with cunning upon the
ignorance and superstition of the masses. Although they themselves
served other gods, they waved with fervor before the multitudes the
portrayal of their movement as carrier and restorer of the traditional
religion.
A low-grade popular religious situation, uneasily yoked with
adventuresome forms of "spirituality" (Geistigkeit, positives
Christentum) - "modern" and political - are two additional
early warning signals. Although a critical mass may not yet be present,
a low-level religious culture - incorporating the teaching of hatred for
a minority community - lays a cultural foundation for eventual genocide.
The Authority of "Civil Religion"
In "modern" societies where traditional religious,
political, and cultural restraints have disappeared, the center of final
authority has shifted from the will of God to the will of the people.
Occasionally, vox populi vox Dei(30) is boldly stated, but usually it is
merely implicit in the pretentious claims of the rulers. Every dictator
in the twentieth century has claimed to "represent . . . the will
of the people" - a consideration that an old-fashioned despot
ruling by divine right would have thought beneath the dignity of his
office. Today, no appeal is possible from the authority of the populist
sovereign, a self-made idol by popular consent.
The political misunderstanding is as dangerous to democratic
behavior as the common failure to understand the depths of Christian
Antisemitism and Muslim Antisemitism cum anti-Christian hatred. In
traditional Muslim and Christian understandings of the Good Society, by
contrast, there were transcendent norms to which appeal could be made.
In the age of popular sovereignty, demagogues and dictators use
plebiscites and other parliamentary tricks to confuse the public mind
and obscure choices between right and wrong.(31) By idolatry of a false
General Will, minorities are pressed among the options of conformity,
death, or exile, while justified revolution and even resistance by
freedom fighters are undercut.
By failure to distinguish political consensus reached after free,
full, and informed discussion from the apparent unanimity of mobs, the
difference between true and false democracy is blurred. Even if the
adoption of a wrong-headed course of action is procedurally correct, the
majority is without legitimacy unless public debate is significant and
"loyal oppositions" are protected in the exercise of their
liberties. Violations of good faith far less bloody than genocide are
forbidden to majorities that honor the clue process of legitimate rule.
Unfortunately, the traditional understandings of what constitutes
"legitimate" government have faded, but a replacement
political theory has not yet gained general acceptance. According to the
received view, a regime is "legitimate" when two conditions
are met: authority has been established over a given population and
area, and the regime has been recognized by a sufficient number of other
governments to have diplomatic, commercial, and military viability.
These standards-set in international law at the time of Hugo
Grotius (1583-1645) and Samuel Pufendorf (1632-94) - suited the
generations when royal rulers governed by divine blessing and political
continuity was broken only when a coup d'etat or biological failure
terminated a royal line. These standards are profoundly dysfunctional in
the age of populist movements and proportional representation, in the
season of terrorist cadres, demagogic agitators, and totalitarian
regimes.
A New Concept of Legitimacy in Government
Another definition of "legitimate" government must be
posited by those who wish to distinguish between terrorists and freedom
fighters, between legitimate government and regimes that rule by brute
violence. It is not sufficient to claim that a certain regime has the
support of its people. If the minorities have neither voice nor survival
value, no one actually knows what "the people" are really
thinking. The question is where a consensus might be found if there were
open and free effort to reach an agreement in matters of public
policy.(32)
Most students of the Third Reich agree that Hitler's terrorist
cadre, once firmly in the saddle, could not have been unhorsed by the
German people. At most a coup of military officers was possible, and
even that became exceedingly doubtful once the armed forces had been
infiltrated and subverted by Nazi activists. The philosopher Karl
Jaspers summed up the situation very well: "Germany under the Nazi
regime was a prison. The guilt of getting into it is a political guilt.
Once the gates were shut, however, a prison break from within was no
longer possible."(33)
This thought runs contrary, of course, to classic democratic
dogmas. Following the Enlightenment, with the rise of popular
sovereignty, it has long been assumed that a people deserved the
government that ruled it. Thomas Jefferson's draft of "The
Declaration of Independence" and Woodrow Wilson's
"Fourteen Points" rested on the assumption that a tyrant who
grew insufferable could be overthrown. Lenin shared with them the dogma
of "the self-determination of peoples," as evident in the 1917
"Declaration of the Rights of Working and Exploited
People."(34) Popular sovereignty and self-determination are - in
the political thought of the last two centuries - permanently yoked, but
they remain in constant tension with each other.(35)
According to the theory, if an unworthy ruler remains in place, the
fault lies in the people; their civil courage is deficient. This
fundamental democratic dogma - redolent with memories of the English,
American, and French Revolutions and still echoing in authorized reports
of Marxist revolutions - carries theoretical deficiencies and bad
practical consequences. Formal "nonintervention" by the French
and the British at the time of the pre-Franco Spanish Republic was
justified by the slogan of "self-determination," yoked to the
assumption that each regime is to be free of outside interference. In
fact, the dogmas condemned the Spanish people to be whipsawed between
fascist and communist terrorism. Even today a Ghadaffi or a Hussein can
appeal for public sympathy against "outside interference" and
claim to represent "the voice of the people" (against which no
appeal is possible).
To repeat, with emphasis, a new definition of political legitimacy
must be posited, if Christians are still to pray for the ruler and all
citizens are to participate loyally in the political order and support a
government's policies in good conscience. First, there must be
channels to empower the will of the people - whether in the style of a
simple democracy, a republic, or a constitutional monarchy. Second, the
liberties and dignities of all loyal citizens, including groups and
individuals in "the loyal opposition," must be protected.
Without the second part of the equation, no regime is
"legitimate." As for illegitimate governments (despotisms and
dictatorships), the Christian owes only a daily prayer that the
Sovereign God may speedily lift the curse of the oppressor's rule
(Ps. 28:15-16; Jer. 21:12).
Again, the genocide scholar will try every government, including
one's own, by two litmus tests: Is the will of the people rightly
reached and applied? Are loyal minorities protected and disloyalists
("terrorists," potentially genocidal) neutered in time? Nor is
it enough that citizens merely be aware of the difference between
illegitimate regimes and legitimate governments.(36) They must also know
that the only way dangerous fifth columns can be reduced with a minimum
of violence is to catch them in time. For instance, the time to deal
ruthlessly with the NSDAP and suppress it utterly was 1923, when a few
hundred traitors followed Hitler and Ludendorff in an attempt to
overthrow the Weimar Republic. They had already murdered several hundred
political opponents. By the time of the Enabling Act - 1933, with terror
daily walking the streets - it was too late to stop them. Kristallnacht
(November 9-11, 1938), when the Nazi regime flaunted its contempt for
world opinion, was much too late. Timing - this, too, is one of the
basic lessons from study of past genocides - is of the essence.
A legitimate government, loyal to the reflective will of the people
and caring of the liberty, dignity, and integrity of every loyal
citizen, is still a relatively rare achievement in this world. Well over
half the governments represented in the United Nations Assembly even
today are old-fashioned despotisms or modern dictatorships - all too
frequently equipped with a low-grade or dissolving traditional religion
or armed with some newly fashioned ideology to justify actions that are
potentially or actually genocidal. Just as fatal, the will of peoples to
resist evil can be broken by the assertion of some offspring of
"modernity," some exponent of "civil religion," that
a Hitler or a Stalin "speaks for the people" (against which no
appeal can be contemplated). Thus, "civil religion" may be as
dangerous a trap as the more overt substitute religions.
Breaking the "Apostolic Succession" of Evil
We return to the Christian concept of an "apostolic
succession" from the primitive church to the present. The Latin
church has come to identify the succession with the laying on of hands.
The Eastern churches generally identify the succession with those who
expound Orthodox doctrine and cultic practice. The Lutherans and
Calvinists identify the succession with the sound preaching of the Word.
Members of Free Churches, such as the Mennonites and Baptists, identify
the true succession with successive generations of "house
churches" "where two or three are gathered together," Mt.
18:20 - since the time of the Apostles.
What has frequently been overlooked, however, is the truth that
there is a Satanic "apostolic succession" of Evil, going back
to the earliest challenges to the Divine purpose and will. Abdul-Hamid,
the first mass murderer of Armenians in the modern period, is said to
have admired the tsars' measures to rid themselves of the Jewish
"threat." When some of Hitler's advisors were
nervous about his plans for the invasion of Poland in the late summer
of 1939, the Fuhrer responded with the now well-known rhetorical
flourish: "Who, after all, speaks today of the annihilation of the
Armenians?"(37) This contempt for the victims did not spring
suddenly to the mind of the Fuhrer as an accidental literary phrase.
Professor Vahakn Dadrian and other scholars have shown that
Hitler's wilful genocide of the Jews had clear antecedents in the
earlier genocide.(38) Indeed, some of the same men who helped run the
Ottoman Turkish armies during World War I were later to hold key
positions in the German Third Reich.(39)
There was, of course, an early case in the succession, or perhaps a
precedent to the succession, since the scientific aspects of the
assaults were not then so well thought out. This type continues to
flourish to the present day in several parts of the globe. The ruler who
introduced the use of mass murder of the Armenians in 1894-96, in part
as a way to divert public attention from the basic corruption in his
regime, admired the way the tsar was using the assault on the Jews as a
diversionary tactic.
When genocide reached its full tide, however, the policy was no
longer a direct expression of religious prejudice (low-grade religion),
no longer a simple diversionary strategy (low-grade politics). It was
"modern": well-planned, rationalized, and systematically
carried out according to the planning, supervision, guidance, and
instructions of thinking persons. Once a precedent had been set, the
crime could be imitated, improved in detail, and finally openly
discussed as an alternative policy option. The latter stage is being
played out in the ruins of Yugoslavia today,(40) a posthumous victory
for Adolf Hitler.
Even the stages of denial signal the nature of the problems. Denial
of the genocide of the Armenians is still vigorous.(41) It has continued
even after the collapse of the Sultan's empire, even after the
imperial dreams of the Young Turks were replaced by Nationalist regimes,
even after some of the major Turkish criminals were punished by military
tribunals.(42) Denial, accompanied by political pressure, has crippled
any adequate treatment of the genocide of the Armenians by sections and
subsidiaries of the United Nations.(43) In 1982 such politics seriously
threatened the gathering in Tel Aviv of an International Conference on
the Holocaust and Genocide.(44) By contrast, overt denial of the
genocide of the Jews is now limited to the educationally backward and
politically regressive.(45)
Denial of the true character of terrorist, potentially genocidal
movements is still widespread, as most of the commentaries on the
bombing of the Jewish Community Center in Argentina and the bombing of
the Federal Building in Oklahoma City clearly demonstrate. Terrorist
strikes are still being discussed as individual enterprises rather than
a style of warfare chosen by alienated communities, and no distinction
is being made between illegitimate regimes (which deserve such acts of
resistance) and legitimate governments (which are entitled to suppress
them).
Our task as citizens is to help move our governments out of the
posture of denial. One of our tasks as intellectuals, using the metaphor
of Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906-45), a Christian martyr to Nazism, is to
throw a hammer into the spokes of the genocidal wheel when the
opportunity presents itself.
A most pressing political and religious task for all of us is to
drive forward toward the clay when genocide - always a sin, and now
recognized as a crime will be punished predictably and consistently,
with penalties proportional to its monstrous wickedness. Alongside this
task is the urgent need to develop legal measures and technical skills
to suppress potentially genocidal groups according to due process of law
- and in time.
A final word: The temptation to claim to be "above
politics" is again strong in the old universities, and academics
are under constant psychological and economic pressure to stand aside
when powerful political and corporate combines assault the weak and
defenseless at home or abroad. In the moment of temptation to passivity,
let us remember that, before we were professors, researchers, and
Ph.D.'s, we were human persons. In the end we shall be called to
answer for the humanity (Menschlichkeit) of our responses.
1 James E. Young, The Texture of Memory: Holocaust Memorials and
Meaning (New Haven, CT, and London: Yale University Press, 1993), p. 30.
2 Winfried Baumgart, "Zur Ansprache Hitlers vor den Fuhrern
der Wehrmacht am 22. Aug. 1939," in Vierteljahrshefte fur
Zeitgeschichte, vol. 16, no. 2 (1968), pp. 120-149; also vol. 19, no. 3
(1971), pp. 294-304.
3 For a fine, recent comparison of the Armenian and the Jewish
experiences of genocide, see Rubina Peroomian, Literary Responses to
Catastrophe (Atlanta, GA: Scholars Press, 1993).
4 Jose Ortega y Gasset, The Revolt of the Masses (New York: New
American Library, 1950), p. 10.
5 Augustine, Confessions, tr. John K. Ryan (New York: Doubleday,
1960), Book XI, chaps. XI and XX.
6 From an address on April 23, 1975, at a conference in the
education building of the cathedral of the Armenian Church of America.
7 See the brilliant essay by Andre Neher, "Silence and Being:
Elie Wiesel," in his The Exile of the Word: From the Silence of the
Bible to the Silence of Auschwitz, tr. David Baisel (Philadelphia:
Jewish Publication Society of America, 1981), pp. 210-226.
8 Raphael Lemkin, Axis Rule in Occupied Europe: Laws of Occupation,
Analysis of Government, Proposals for Redress (Washington, DC: Carnegie
Endowment for International Peace, 1944), p. 80.
9 Ibid., p. 79.
10 Paraphrase of sections in the Genocide Convention; see, e.g.,
"Genocide Convention," in Encyclopaedia Judaica (Jerusalem:
Keter Publishing, 1972), vol. 7, col. 410.
11 The Institute for the Study of Genocide was founded at John Jay
College of the City University of New York and is led by one of the
pioneers in the field, Dr. Helen Fein. In the issue of the Newsletter to
which we refer, the editor interviews another of the well-known American
students of genocide, Alison Des Forges. At the time of the interview
Dr. Des Forges, Adjunct in the History Department at the State
University of New York at Buffalo, had made four trips as head of an
investigatory commission to Rwanda and Burundi in an investigation
supported by Human Rights Watch.
12 Newsletter (ISG), No. 13 (Fall, 1994), pp. 1-2. The newsletter
is sent to members of the Institute for the Study of Genocide, John Jay
College (City College of New York), 899 Tenth Avenue (#623), New York,
NY 10019.
13 A recent article along these lines was my "Essay: Early
Warning," published in Holocaust and Genocide Studies, vol. 3, no.
4 (1988), pp. 483-490.
14 Franklin H. Littell, Wild Tongues (New York: Macmillan Co.,
1969). For a recent elaboration, see my "Creating an Early Warning
System: The 20th Century Confrontation with Terrorist Movements,"
the 1996 Ida E. King Lecture at Richard Stockton College of New Jersey
(November 7, 1996), Working Paper 4 in the College's Holocaust
Resource Center (24 pp., mimeographed, bound). Also see "Toward a
Genocide Early Warning System," in Israel W. Charny and Chanan
Rapaport, How Can We Commit the Unthinkable? Genocide: the Human Cancer
(Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1982), chap. 13.
15 Littell, Wild Tongues, pp. 72-92.
16 Ibid., pp. 93-112.
17 The distinction between acts of violence attributable to
individuals acting at will and acts of violence flowing inexorably from
the ideology and discipline of terrorist movements in which the
individual foot-soldier is but a pawn has so far escaped the attention
of many democratic governments. The initial response to the assault on
the Federal Building in Oklahoma City - an attack that occurred while
most foreign registrants were en route to the Yerevan Conference -
clearly showed the confusion. The instinctive response of the
administration in Washington was to treat the problem as a crime by
individuals, the solution being to expand greatly the powers and
prerogatives of the executive branch in controlling the citizens. What
is in fact wanting is action by the legislative branch to enact laws and
procedures of due process to confront and inhibit disloyal networks and
movements. One illustration of how a democratic government can begin to
defend itself and the liberties of loyal citizens from the assaults of
terrorists is the Bundeszentrale fur Verfassungsschutz. Set up under the
parliament of the German Federal Republic, the center and its staff have
developed a process that, with proper safeguards, sharply inhibits the
growth of groups disloyal to the constitution (Grundgesetz) and
dangerous to the liberties of loyal citizens
("verfassungswidrig").
18 The Genocide Convention permits nations to ignore national
boundaries in combatting and suppressing genocidal acts, which is one of
the major reasons the U.S. Senate was so slow in ratifying the
Convention.
19 Article on Max Nordau (Simon Maximilian Sudfeld, 1849-1923), in
Encyclopaedia Judaica (Jerusalem: Keter Publishing, 1972), vol. 12, col.
1213.
20 For thirteen common characteristics of the Armenian and Jewish
genocides, see Franklin H. Littell, "Holocaust and Genocide: The
Essential Dialectic," Holocaust and Genocide Studies, vol. 2, no. 1
(1987), pp. 98-99.
21 Cited in Peroomian, Literary Responses, p. 80.
22 Robert Melson, Revolution and Genocide: On the Origins of the
Armenian Genocide and the Holocaust (Chicago and London: University of
Chicago Press, 1992), Part I, pp. 41-135.
23 Cited in Cyrus Adler, ed., The Voice of America on Kishineff
(Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1904), p. 159.
24 Ibid., p. 161.
25 On Christendom's development of the three levels of
Christian Antisemitism (theological, cultural, political), see Franklin
H. Littell, The Crucifixion of the Jews (Mercer, GA: Mercer University
Press, 1986; paper ed. of orig.: Harper & Row, 1975).
26 The difference between the Language of Assault and the Language
of Dialogue is so fundamental that only a clever lawyer can blur the
distinction. See my essay, "The Language of Assault vs. the
Language of Dialogue," Christian Ethics Today 4 (December, 1995):
23-24.
27 See Hans Buchheim, Glaubenskrise im Dritten Reich (Stuttgart:
Deutsche Verlags-Anstalt, 1953); Uriel Tal, "Nazism as a
'Political Faith,'" The Jerusalem Quarterly 15 (Spring,
1980): 71-89; and idem, "Forms of Pseudo-Religion in the German
Kulturbereich prior to the Holocaust," Immanuel, no. 3 (Winter,
1973/74), pp. 68-73.
28 A point well made in Mary Mangigian Tarzian's The Armenian
Minority Problem: 1914-1934 - A Nation's Struggle for Security,
University of Pennsylvania Armenian Texts and Studies (Atlanta, GA:
Scholars Press, 1992), pp. 48-49. E.g., Talaat Pasha was descended from
the sectarian movement around Shabtai Zvi; Hitler was a Viennese street
person who gained German citizenship through a back-door action by the
City of Braunschweig. The factor of genealogical, ethnic, social,
psychological, and educational marginality in the Pan-Turanist and Nazi
elites has been well presented by R. Hrair Dekmejian in
"Determinants of Genocide: Armenians and Jews as Case
Studies," in Richard G. Hovannisian, ed., The Armenian Genocide in
Perspective (New Brunswick, NJ, and Oxford: Transaction Books, 1986),
pp. 92-94.
29 This "spiritual" aspect of the totalitarian
"political party" has been well discussed by Florence Mazian
in Why Genocide? The Armenian and Jewish Experiences in Perspective
(Ames, IA: Iowa State University Press, 1990), chaps. 3 and 9.
30 As on the frieze of the City Hall in Jersey City, New Jersey.
31 According to Jacob Talmon, in The Origins of Totalitarian
Democracy (London: Secker & Warburg, 1952), the tracks between true
democracy and false democracy separated following the French Revolution.
32 On the vital importance of loyal oppositions to achieving a
genuine consensus in democratic government, see A. D. Lindsay, The
Essentials of Democracy (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press,
1929), pp. 45-47.
33 Karl Jaspers, The Question of German Guilt, tr. E. B. Ashton
(New York: Capricorn Books, 1961 [orig.: Die Schuldfrage, 1947]), p. 82.
34 On how Lenin's touching faith in "the
self-determination of peoples" actually worked out for the
Armenians, see Tarzian, Armenian Minority Problem, pp. 195-197.
35 Ibid., p. 245.
36 To distinguish between terrorists and freedom fighters is also
imperative. In the Armenian situation in 1915-21, the distinctions can
be made rather precisely. Neither the regime of the old order nor the
regime of the Young Turks was legitimate. The action of Soghomon
Tehlirian, who killed Talaat Pasha - an escaped but condemned criminal -
in Berlin, was not an act of terrorism. See Edward Alexander, A Crime of
Vengeance (New York: Free Press, 1991), for the narrative. Whether later
assassinations of Turkish officials by Armenian patriots were acts of
terrorism or legitimate acts of resistance by freedom fighters depends
upon whether or not the later government of Turkey fulfills the
definition of a legitimate government.
37 Cited in Helen Fein, Accounting for Genocide: National Responses
and Jewish Victimization during the Holocaust (London: Collier Macmillan
Publishers; New York: Free Press, 1979), p. 4, from Louis Lochner, What
about Germany? (New York: Dodd, Mead, 1942), p. 2.
38 On the linkage of the idea of modern nationality with ethnic
homogeneity in Ittihadist thought, see Vahakn N. Dadrian, "Genocide
as a Problem of National and International Law: The World War I Armenian
Case and Its Contemporary Legal Ramifications," Yale Journal of
International Law 14 (Summer, 1989): 252-255.
39 See Littell, "Holocaust and Genocide," pp. 97-98.
40 On the role of debased journalism, see Paul Mojzes, Yugoslavian
Inferno (New York: Continuum, 1994), pp. 54-55; on the component of
debased religion, see pp. 125-126; on the populist stance of the
politicians, see pp. 156-157.
41 For a recent expose of the politics of the denial of the
genocide of the Armenians, see Roger W. Smith, Eric Markusen, and Robert
J. Lifton, "Professional Ethics and the Denial of the Armenian
Genocide," Holocaust and Genocide Studies, vol. 9, no. 1 (1995),
pp. 1-22, with substantial footnotes on the documentary evidence in
American, British, and German archives, as well as Armenian and Turkish
records.
42 John S. Kirakossian, The Armenian Genocide (Madison, CT: Sphinx Press, 1992), tr. Shushan Altunian from the 1983 Russian ed., chap. 9.
43 Richard G. Hovannisian, "The Armenian Genocide and Patterns
of Denial," in Hovannisian, Armenian Genocide in Perspective, p.
127. On the patterns of official denial, in addition to this article,
see chapters by Marjorie Housepian Dobkin, "What Genocide? What
Holocaust? News from Turkey, 1915-1923: A Case Study," pp. 97-109;
and Vigen Guroian, "Collective Responsibility and Official Excuse
Making: The Case of the Turkish Genocide of the Armenians, pp. 135-152.
See also Roger W. Smith, "Genocide and Denial: The Armenian Case
and Its Implications," Armenian Review, vol. 41, no. 1 (1989), pp.
1-38; on the U.S. government's role in denial, see pp. 20-24.
44 News items were carried in the New York Times in 1982 on June 3
(p. 1), June 4 (p. 10), June 5 (p. 3), and June 22 (p. 4). See
especially the narrative published by the convener of the conference,
Prof. Israel Charny: Israel W. Charny and Shamai Davidson, eds., The
Book of the International Conference on the Holocaust and Genocide (Tel
Aviv: The Institute on Holocaust and Genocide, 1983), pp. 270-315.
45 See Deborah E. Lipstadt, Denying the Holocaust (New York: Free
Press, 1993). For an early and detailed summary of the political and
ecclesiastical network behind denial of the genocide of the Jews, see
Franklin H. Littell, "A Report on 'Historical
Revisionism,'" in Report of the 1981 International Council
Meeting (Jerusalem: Yad Vashem, 1982), pp. 39-58.
Franklin H. Littell (United Methodist) is the Ida E. King
Distinguished Visiting Professor at the Richard Stockton College of New
Jersey in Pomona, NJ. An Emeritus Professor of Religion at Temple
University, he was Adjunct Professor in the Institute of Contemporary
Jewry of the Hebrew University, Jerusalem, 1973-93. His B.A. is from
Cornell College, Mt. Vernon, IA; his S.T.M. from Union Theological
Seminary (New York); and his Ph.D. (1946) from Yale University. He
served for nearly a decade in the American occupation of postwar
Germany; in 1959, he was awarded the Grosse Verdienstkreuz (1st class)
for his contribution to American-German reconciliation. In 1996, he
received the annual Buber-Rosenzweig medal from the German Council of
Christians and Jews. He co-founded the Annual Scholars' Conference
on the Holocaust and the Churches in 1970, and he founded the oldest
U.S. interfaith Holocaust education center in 1975 (now the Philadelphia
Center on the Holocaust, Genocide, and Human Rights). A founding member
of the Association of Genocide Scholars, he was the first Christian
appointed by the Israeli cabinet to the International Council of Yad
Vashem. From 1978 till the opening of its Museum in 1993, he was a
member of the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Council, by Presidential
appointment. A charter associate editor of J.E.S., he is a prolific
author of books, book chapters, and journal articles.