Holiday Reading

Here are some mini-reviews of what I have been reading over my holidays.

The Old Curiosity Shop by Charles Dickens
At the end of semester I was reading masses of Dickens for an essay on his views on childhood, and I enjoyed him enough that I couldn’t put him aside altogether when the holidays came around. The Old Curiosity Shop is the tragic tale of Nell Trent, an orphan who lives in poverty with her foolish but loving grandfather. She is the victim both of a negligent guardian, an apathetic society and the sinister Quilp.

Nell, ultimately, is unconvincing as a character; she is simply too innocent and pure to have emerged from the corrupt world of the London slums. The novel is too long and the last third is predictable and fairly superfluous to the whole. That said, Dickens is always a pleasure, and the novel offers some wonderful characters.

The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane
I really enjoy Crane’s poetry, so I had wanted to read his prose for some time. And he didn’t disappoint. The Red Badge of Courage follows the experiences of a youthful recruit to the American Civil War. In his first battle the boy takes flight and wanders aimlessly coming to terms with his own cowardice and the ugliness of war. When he returns to his regiment he lies about having bravely fought at the other end of the battle. The title refers to the war wounds that attest to the heroics of a man, and the young recruits lack of wounds reminds him of his failure. Over the course of the novel we see him both grow into manhood and fall beneath humanity in the horrors and glory of war.

This is a fantastic discussion of youth and war and probably the most worthwhile read of my holidays.

The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway
I had never read Hemingway and I came to the novella with pretty high expectations (it did win both a Pulitzer and Nobel Prize). It wasn’t what I expected.

It is very simple, reading like a child’s story. It only has two real characters, Santiago, an old Cuban fisherman, both honourable and skilful, but facing the realities of age, and Manolin, Santiago’s devoted protégé. Perhaps the third character would be the great marlin, with whom Santiago is determined to battle to the death. The old man has the highest respect for both the marlin and the sea, but these also serve as his fierce opponents throughout.
The story is essentially about Santiago – his relationship with the environment, his endurance, his triumph and his loss. The novella is endearing, but in the end I think I was hoping for a little bit more. Still, I would recommend it.

The Power and the Glory by Graham Green
Graham Greene is one of my favorite authors; his novels are beautifully written and always leave me thinking for weeks after I read them. Although I enjoyed it less then some of his other novels, The Power and the Glory was no exception in this regard. It is the story of a ‘whisky priest’ in Mexico at a time when Catholicism was outlawed. The priest travels around performing the Catholic rites and evading the government officials, who have placed a bounty on his head. Because of the bounty, he must also mistrust all others he comes into contact with.

I found that it took a long time for the novel to gain momentum as it jumps around a lot. The characters are, for the most part, very unpleasant. The ‘whisky priest’ is an alcoholic, who gambles, fornicates, lies, takes from the poor and lets the innocent die in his place. And he is fully aware of his own depravity, and someone he must reconcile this with his position of respect, which he refuses to surrender. The other main character is the lieutenant who pursues the ‘whisky priest’ and aims to eliminate Catholicism, which he perceives as a source of the poverty and ignorance of the populace. The lieutenant is devoted to his people, yet is willing to sacrifice individuals if it leads to the capture of the priest. His idealism, though admirable on one level, is dangerous in much the same way that the priest’s religion is considered to be dangerous – it acts as a justification for horrendous acts.

Power and the Glory is one of those novels where the author wants to feel to monotony of the characters’ lives. Often when this occurs you also start feeling that the book itself is monotonous. It was a worthwhile, if not a particularly gripping read.

Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck
Short but dramatic. I read it in one sitting on the train, and then sat back for an hour trying to absorb the shock.
Lennie and George are drifters. They go from ranch to ranch trying to work up a stake, but are repeatedly forced to move on when the lumbering, dim-witted Lennie falls into trouble. Yet, George remains with Lennie as an alternative to the abject loneliness of those around them.

Life for those in the novel is an essentially lonely and disappointing experience. Many hold hopes of a better life – a life of fame, or of independence, or of respect. But, reality inevitably crushes these hopes and the individual is forced to settle for the cards fate has dealt them.

Steinbeck’s writing is simple, raw, and real. Almost every character is initially despised for their obvious flaws, but as the readers learns of their experiences they understand that all are simply victims of a harsh and corrupting world. I loved it.

The Rise of Christianity by Rodney Stark
After a series of novels, I felt I really needed some good non-fiction holiday reading. I generally read fairly little non-fiction just because I get so much in my course and prefer to relax with fiction. But I can only go so long before I need both.

The Rise of Christianity: How the Obscure, Marginal Jesus Movement Became the Dominant Religious Force in the Western World in a Few Centuries is impressive in the clarity and with which it answers a complex question of history. Stark is a professor of sociology and comparative religion at the University of Washington and he masterfully applies contemporary historical research and modern sociological and psychological principles to and age-old mystery. He shows how religious development in the first century essentially operated in much the same ways as it does in the twenty-first, and how the culture of the time suited the growth of a religion like Christianity.
It worth reading just for what it shows about life in the Roman Empire, whilst also enabling one to critically look at religious movements as a universal phenomenon. Highly recommended.

The Victory of Reason by Rodney Stark
Having enjoyed The Rise of Christianity so much, I was eager to hear Stark’s perspective on another of fascinating period of history – the Dark Ages. Starks sets out to prove that “Christianity Led to Freedom, Capitalism, and Western Success”, and he ruthless against suggestions that the religion did anything but. His writing is far more assertive, far less humble and, for me, less enjoyable.

Whereas The Rise of Christianity was structured around answering a few specific questions, The Victory of Reason sweeps through the centuries between the fall of Rome and the French Revolution showing how each and every development in industry, economics, technology and philosophy came from Christianity or the Catholic Church. He makes some huge claims without the evidence that he painstakingly put together in The Rise of Christianity. Yet, I do not question the validity of much of what he said, and it great learning experience for some so ill-versed in Medieval history as myself. A very worthwhile read, and inspiring enough that I may seek out another of Stark’s works in the future.

The novel ends with a quote from “one of China’s leading scholars”:

One of the things we [the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences] were asked to look into was what accounted for the success, in fact, the pre-eminence of the West all over the world. We studied everything we could from the historical, political, economic, and cultural perspective. At first, we thought it was because you had more powerful guns than we had. Then we thought it was because you had the best political system. Next we focused on your economic system. But in the past twenty years, we have realized that the heart of your culture is your religion: Christianity. That is why the West has been so powerful. The Christian moral foundation of social and cultural life was what made possible the emergence of capitalism and then the successful transition to democratic politics. We don’t have any doubt about this.

Gender and Twilight

I have had a number of conversations in recent months with girls who tell me they would not read the Stephanie Meyer Twilight series.[1] Not because it is trashy writing, but because they find the novels emotionally manipulating, likening them to pornography for girls.

The similarities with pornography are evident. Porn's attraction is that it baits a deeply embedded sexual impulse. It creates a fantasy world where these desires can be satisfied, free from the complications of a relationship. Time spent in this fantasy also affects the view of reality. So, acceptance of a fantasy world where women exist as nothing more than sexual objects, creates a real expectation that women will conform to this identity. Within a marriage, it also forces a women to compete with an impossible ideal, which can have a whole series of consequences.[2] The claim about Twilight is that it creates a fantasy world where a woman can assume the role of Bella and feel protected and loved by the adorable Edward Cullen. The more one feeds on this fantasy the more one's actual expectations of relationships change. Thus, readers of the novels will be expecting the impossible, the perfect man.

Yet, I don't really see the two as equivalent. Partly because Twilight presents what seems like a fairly positive ideal - a man who will sacrificially and unconditionally love - whilst pornography presents a very low ideal. Whilst the object of pornography may be physically perfect, they do not selflessly deny their desires, like Edward Cullen, but they have no desires of their own, apart from that of satisfying the consumer.

Also, I don't think the emotional desires of women which are evoked in the novels correspond to the sexual desires of men. Men have emotional desires which correspond far more closely.[3]

From my experience, I would say a novel like Tess of the d'Urbervilles might be the male equivalent to Twilight. Tess, by Thomas Hardy, is about a poor, naive girl who selflessly labours for the good of her family. Her naivety and good intentions are repeatedly abused by the men in her life, most notably in her rape [4] and her abandonment by her husband, Angel, on their wedding day. I once recommended the novel to a friend thinking that, because it had a female heroine, it would have a strong appeal to a female audience. It was only later that it really occurred to me that, although Tess is the protagonist, she is not a heroine. She is almost passive in her submission to the influences of Alec and Angel and her actions consistently lead her into, rather than away from, danger.

The novel very strongly brings out the protective instincts in a guy. Tess, beautiful and selfless, so clearly deserves a man who will protect her and appreciate her obvious virtue. The male reader observes how time and time again she is led into tragic circumstances, knowing that in each case that the male in her life - be it her irresponsible father, the cunning Alec or the unforgiving Angel - should have protected her. The man wishes he was in the story so that he could spare Tess from her suffering. So also the female reader of Twilight who wishes they were in the story so that Edward Cullen could love and protect them.

Bella is far from an ideal women - she is plain, uncoordinated and lacking in confidence. It is because of this that the novel is so emotive; the female reader is able to feel that they are more worthy of Edward Cullen than Bella. In Tess, Alec and Angel are so selfish they prove themselves unworthy of Tess. The bar is low enough that almost any reader is justified in feeling they are better equipped to protect and love Tess.

In both of these novels, there is a clear distinction in the gender roles of male and female: the man is the protector and the woman is the object of his protection. But the obvious difference is that Tess was written pre-feminism. It greatly surprises me that Twilight has been such a raging success in Western culture. Our society as a whole seems to be informing girls that gender distinction is not important, yet, when a novel emerges that seems to present the opposite message, it is a phenomenal success. American psychologist, Leonard Sax, has given this explanation:

Bella has broad appeal; as many girls can appreciate, she likes watching reruns of "The Simpsons" while she nibbles on Pop-Tarts. But the twist is that Bella's ideas about gender roles are decidedly unfeminist. The pairing of a modern setting and traditional gender roles is unusual in children's and teen literature…

Three decades of adults pretending that gender doesn't matter haven't created a generation of feminists who don't need men; they have instead created a horde of girls who adore the traditional male and female roles and relationships in the "Twilight" saga. Likewise, ignoring gender differences hasn't created a generation of boys who muse about their feelings while they work on their scrapbooks. Instead, a growing number of boys in this country spend much of their free time absorbed in the masculine mayhem of video games such as Grand Theft Auto and Halo or surfing the Internet for pornography. [5]

With the continuing popularity of Austen and the like, it is clear that there is a deep attraction towards traditional gender roles. But, at least in Austen the heroines are courageous and admirable, unlike Bella. Bella must be weak in order to highlight the strength of Edward, in much the same way that Tess's virtue is highlighted by the selfishness of the men around her.


[1] I have not actually read any of the novels, or seen the movie so it is quite possible that my observations of it are entirely false. If so, please leave a comment that says so. Thanks to my teenage sister, both the books and the movie are sitting around my house and I considered having a look at them before writing this post, but then I decided that I have far better things to do with my time.
[2] This presentation presents a fairly confronting description of the effects of pornography in relationships and society.
[3] However, I would concede that the emotional desires appear to be more powerful in women.
[4] The actual scene of the rape is not recounted, and it is never clear the extent to which Tess consented. But this is irrelevant since it is clearly Alec taking advantage of her sexually. As in case of the Matthew John's fiasco, it is clear that consent does not exclude rape.
[5] Leonard Sax, “'Twilight' Sinks Its Teeth Into Feminism”, The Washington Post, August 17, 2008

Prayer for the 21st century

For those tired of millennia old prayer methods, here are three easy steps to bring your prayer life into the 21st century:

1. Before praying, make sure you deck out your surrounds with lots of candles. Now, this little secret was discovered years ago, but has been lost amongst a maze of Bibles in in many of our 'contemporary' churches, just as the New Agers rediscover the aromatherapeutic power of the scented candle.

2. It can be hard to find the words to pray, so what you need to do is visit EXAMEN.me, which will do all that for you. And with the internet on your mobile phone, prayer can now be done on the train, at work, anywhere you want!

3. Now you have the prayers, get yourself a Prayer Answer-er.

This snazzy little gizmo will sort out those issues with lack of assurance. Its size may be a little inconvenient, but in a year or two it will have been adjusted so as to be a regular feature of all mobile phones - but don't wait 'til then to get in on the action.

Should we obey the law?

Here are the reasons that come to mind for why we do obey the law:

(1) We believe what the law is promoting: The law, at least in democracies, is based around the social consensus of what is worth protecting. So, most people recognize right to the security of the person, so assault and battery are criminalized; people tend to think property rights are valuable, so theft and robbery are criminalized. Laws, therefore, are not arbitrary but based on society’s beliefs. Thus, most individuals in society respect the principles on which the law is built. Presumably then, even if the law did not state that murder was wrong, we would still not murder. We desist from breaking the law because the behavior it prohibits, when adopted, compromises our own sense of morality.

(2) The law promotes peace and order: By having a legal institution that deters destructive behavior and promotes constructive behavior we create a society which is ordered and in which we can live in peace. We will sacrifice our immediate desires because, ultimately, more of our desires will be satisfied we if preserve the peace by honoring the law.

(3) Fear of retribution: The law has the authority to inflict punishment – such as, fines, jail, deportation (for non-citizens), corporal punishment (whipping, or amputation of hands in Sharia law) etc. – and naturally we will avoid action that may result in such penalties. When this is the motive for obedience, is likely that the law will only be followed if there is likelihood that it will be discovered by authorities.

(4) Habit: To some extent we are conditioned for certain behavior which is generally beneficial to our person. Whilst the reasons given thus far are all conscious, following the law by course of habit is subconscious.

For example, when I am crossing the road at the lights often I will begin walking before the man has gone green if it is clear that by doing so I will not put myself in danger or cause inconvenience to any drivers. Yet, oftentimes will pedestrians choose to wait for the man to go green despite (a) a lack of danger, (b) no fear of retribution, and (c) no moral quandary with jaywalking. One could make the argument that it promotes order (Point 2), but I think a more common explanation is that is simply does not occur to the pedestrian that they have the agency to disobey the law; waiting for the green man is simply a matter of habit.

(5) Religious imperatives: This is probably the reason that I come across least often, but it’s certainly out there and pretty central to some people.

The Bible says, “Submit yourselves for the Lord's sake to every authority instituted among men: whether to the king, as the supreme authority, or to governors, who are sent by him to punish those who do wrong and to commend those who do right” (1 Peter 2:13-14, also Romans 13:1, Titus 3:1). If we isolate this command from the reasons for which it was given, then it seems Christians are compelled to follow the law (except where it is in conflict with God’s law, see Acts 5:29). I have friends who oppose violation of the law as they see the Bible giving inherent value to the law.

Personally, I reject this interpretation. I think the Bible consistently promotes following the spirit of the law rather than legalistically following the details of the law. Take, for example, Matthew 12:1-7:

At that time Jesus went through the grainfields on the Sabbath. His disciples were hungry and began to pick some heads of grain and eat them. When the Pharisees saw this, they said to him, "Look! Your disciples are doing what is unlawful on the Sabbath." He answered, "Haven't you read what David did when he and his companions were hungry? He entered the house of God, and he and his companions ate the consecrated bread—which was not lawful for them to do, but only for the priests. Or haven't you read in the Law that on the Sabbath the priests in the temple desecrate the day and yet are innocent? I tell you that one greater than the temple is here. If you had known what these words mean, 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice,' you would not have condemned the innocent.

Or take Mark 10:2-9:

Some Pharisees came and tested Jesus by asking, "Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?"
"What did Moses command you?" he replied.
They said, "Moses permitted a man to write a certificate of divorce and send her away."
"It was because your hearts were hard that Moses wrote you this law," Jesus replied. "But at the beginning of creation God 'made them male and female.' 'For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.' So they are no longer two, but one. Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate."

In the first case he endorses what, technically, is illegal and in the second he criticizes behavior that is technically legal but contradicts the spirit of the law.

The other night my friend and I were offered a lift home by a P1 driver. I accepted the offer, knowing that doing so was breaking a state law that was recently brought in, limiting P1 drivers to one passenger between the ages of 16 and 21. In the end we didn’t end up breaking the law because another friend had an ethical dilemma with it. I, on the other hand, did not.

The restrictions placed on P1 drivers are, to me, entirely reasonable. Many accidents occur as a result of P drivers carrying multiple peers who distract them or urge them on to reckless acts, thereby creating danger and disorder. This graph of when casualty crashes occur shows why such laws are important.

But, in the five minute trip home, I could predict that this would not occur, knowing myself and knowing the driver. I felt as though the law, in its spirit, did not apply to our case and therefore could be disobeyed. I could see nothing immoral about the situation as we would not be causing any undue risk to ourselves or others. Being a new law I was certainly not in the habit of adjusting my behavior to account for such a law. Since it was a short trip and we wouldn’t be driving recklessly there was also almost no chance that we would be caught. And I don’t think our intended action would have discouraged a peaceful society by legitimizing contravention of the law.

It seems I am quite happy to disregard details of the law, if the intentions of the law are being honored.

Humanism at Easter

Way back in Easter I took the time to visit a number of very different churches and was pretty startled and concerned about the humanist philosophy which had sunk through to Church teaching. Here are two examples that, although rather radical, seem to reflect ideas common throughout the church.

St Michael’s Uniting
Francis Macnab, minister of St Michael’s Uniting, is something of an old hat in ways, repeating the same heresies popularised by Bishop Spong years ago in the US – but I had never read Spong and, not having prepared myself, his message came as a bit of a shock.

The Good Friday address was entitled ‘The Churches Love Affair - With Violence. Time to Choose a Better Way.’

Humans, he suggests, are naturally fascinated by violence – as evidenced by our captivation with violent films, our love of high contact sport. The Church’s concentration on the cross – which he rightly observes to be a symbol of brutality, criminality and domination – is another symptom of this. Substitutionary atonement, he claims, promotes a cycle of violence by suggesting that violence cancels out violence.

The ‘better way’ suggested by Macnab is for Christians to stop focusing on the figure of Jesus and the cross and find instead the good within themselves. This internal goodness (‘god’) allows one to break the cycle of violence. You can watch it for yourself here.

The message was clearly humanism wrapped up in a rather unconvincing guise of Christianity. Gone were any suggestions of human depravity or helplessness. We are the solution to our own problems – the power is within.

St Patrick’s Cathedral Not quite so explicitly heretical, but still problematic, was the message given at the Catholic Cathedral on Easter Sunday. The priest presented the story of two (fictional) couples. One of which were good Catholics who went to Mass, had children and basically lived happy lives. The second could have been equally blessed, except for the abortion they chose to take which, naturally, led to relationship breakdown and a stream of other unfortunate events.

The obligatory defamation of abortion done, he proceeded to inform us of the message of Easter, is one of hope – hope that in the bad times, good times will follow; hope that in our sadness, happiness will follow; hope that (assuming we don’t have an abortion) God will look after us. Look at the disciples after Jesus died –afraid and hopeless, but then comes Easter Sunday and everything is somehow okay again, he didn’t actually explain why this was though.

Much like at St Michael’s, the message was easy words to comfort the heart. There was no explanation of the cross, no assumption of sinfulness. Rather, we can forge for ourselves a happy future by remembering the ‘hope of Easter’ and doing good (or rather avoiding evil, i.e. abortion). We are the solution to our own problems – the power is within.

This is common in the church when we emphasise works over the absolute grace of God. We live in an arrogant age where we can’t accept that we are far gone and desperately in need of saving. At St Pat’s, the motivation for obeying the Church was that God would make our lives easier; it is not God but our own abilities, needs and interests that are central to understanding and living in the world.

No more waltzing matilda for me

Apologies to anyone that may find my remarks insensitive at this time

As you most probably know, today is ANZAC Day – a national (or binational, since it is in NZ too) celebration of the actions of soldiers who have fought for the nation. I must admit that I don’t really approve of the whole thing. Here are a few reasons why:

(1) It is nationalistic – Perhaps one reason that I see this as a negative aspect is that I have never been particularly patriotic. I am a dual US-Australian citizen, but I have no real sense of American citizenry, and am unconvinced of my Australianness. I have affection for the land and its people, but am not easily stirred to nationalist fervour.

I also feel as though national boundaries are fairly arbitrary, so I don’t see why I should feel particular solidarity with someone I have never met who lives on the other side of the country. I can’t think of anything that really unites every Australian; there are some beliefs that are generally accepted – such as ‘mateship’, resentment of authority/hierarchy and a love of sport – but it isn’t like these are distinctive to Australia or true for every Australian.

Not only is it an arbitrary construction, but I also often find nationalism to insidious. Nationalism is always reinforced through the exclusion of foreigners and so it is a natural support for racism. It creates an ‘us’ and ‘them’ mentality which has no real justification or value. When we uphold nationalist stereotypes, like the ANZAC digger, those who fall outside the mould are denied their full status as citizens or even humans.

Nationalism is also a motivation and justification for war. War has always been the means by which nations establish their strength and merit, and taking pride in a nations war efforts suggests war is the solution to the nation’s problems.

(2) It is a glorification of war – I should say first of all that I don’t think all ANZAC celebrations explicitly glorify war. Very often they may reflect on the horror of war. However, they neglect to show the futility of war.

We desperately want to believe all those soldiers sacrificed their lives for a just cause, but for the most part they didn’t. The Australian forces has often acted as a peacekeeping force, but ANZAC particularly commemorates those who give their lives – something which rarely occurs in acting as a peacekeepers. Primarily, we are called to remember the wars Australia fought in, which have perhaps never been just. The country has never had the need to defend its own soil as the only time it was attacked at home was by the Japanese in Feb 1942 – months after we had declared war on Japan. Australia’s wars have generally not been defending its borders or its citizens, but defending its interests, or those of our allies, overseas.

When we remember our war efforts it should not be with pride, but with a deep regret that we were not able to resolve our problems in a humane manner.

(3) It negates the responsibility of soldiers for their actions – There is an idea out there that we should support the troops regardless of whether we believe that the war they are fighting in is justified. I find this an awful and dangerous idea. It suggests that no matter how unjust the war is those fighting are not wrong in supporting it and enabling it.

The universal soldier really is to blame for their actions. Just because you wear a uniform doesn’t mean you no longer have responsibility for your actions. It is always the soldier’s choice to fight, and they are always culpable for what they do (as are those who direct them to fight). I am not a pacifist, and I support armed conflict in some cases (though only ever as a last resort, and even then it is a hideous thing), but I would only ever fight, or support others fighting if the cause was just and means justified.

The intentions of the Australian soldiers defending their family and citizens were very often noble, but no digger should ever be proud of the fact that they attacked and killed other people, especially since those they killed were most often soldiers themselves, fighting for the same cause – the safety of their families. It is wrong for someone to go out and kill for an unjust cause, and there are Australian soldiers that we should be criticising for taking part in unjust wars.

All that said, there are some very good things about ANZAC Day. Most significantly, we are remembering lessons from history. We should never forget what has been done and what is being done to achieve the freedom we have. War often reveals the worst of mankind and we should be remembering what man is capable of. We should be remembering what the consequences are of both choosing to fight and choosing not to fight. And when we remember we should not do so with the non-critical gaze that ANZAC Day suggests is appropriate.

Non-Intervention

I was talking with a friend recently about the Australian Defence Force, and whether it was just that - a defence force. We seemed to be in agreement that it was an offensive force, yet I, unlike my friend, saw this to be a good thing. I am not a big fan of the policy of non-intervention - it seems to me irresponsible to stand by idly by and let evil run its course. They say, 'Evil triumphs because good men do nothing', but I think the man who does nothing is part of the evil, and can’t be separated from it.

Of course, this doesn’t mean we all need to go sticking their hand into every dispute we know about. For example, hindsight shows us that the American intervention in Vietnam escalated a small scale conflict into a huge scale war. It increased involvement from major Communist powers, brought in far more destructive weaponry and ended up costing millions of lives. But where we have the capability, we also have the responsibility to prevent evil.

I can think of a number of reasons I can think of that are given as a defence for passivity:

(1) The Postmodern View - given that right and wrong are products of a society s culture and heritage and therefore there is no universal right/wrong. Because of this, one culture can not criticise another based upon its own understanding of morality. This leads to the tag of neo-colonialism whenever the need for intervention arrives.
(2) Karma – if you believe ‘what goes around comes around’ then any suffering that you witness is the just return for somebody’s wickedness. Thus, to intervene would be to divert the divine course of justice, creating more unbalance.
(3) The Pacifist View – there are plenty of people out there who seem to think that ‘violence is never the answer’. Among the advocates of such a view are the Christian ‘peace churches’, such as the Church of the Brethren, the Mennonites, and the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers), who somehow got in their head that Jesus promoted non-violence.

On the other hand, we have some strong reasons for being interventionist:

(1) Utilitarian View – ‘the end justifies the means’. If by intervening more suffering is prevented than created, then intervention is a moral imperative. However, one should not intervene if such an action will increase the overall suffering. This can be a useful way about thinking, but it can be unhelpful as you can’t really know how events will turn out (would the US have joined the Vietnam War if they had known the outcome?).
(2) Deontological View – if you hold that there are certain moral absolutes than it is necessary that you defend these absolutes, even if to do so would mean risking your life or the lives of others. So, if you actually think genocide is wrong, and that we ought to avert what is wrong, then you can not let genocide occur. Indeed, to not intervene would be to tacitly consent to genocide.

I wouldn’t be the first to criticise the isolationism of the Allied powers pre-WWII which allowed the rise of Hitler – whose views had been quite clearly stated in Mein Kampf. The decision not to intervene allowed the situation escalate into a world war. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who I consider something of an authority on the subject, claimed,
'There can only be a community of peace when it does not rest on lies and injustice. Where a community of peace endangers or chokes truth and justice, the community of peace must be broken and the battle joined.' [1]
When there is injustice, peace can not be present. First remove the injustice, paving the way for peace.


[1] Dietrich Bonhoeffer, No Rusty Swords