I Don't See Dead People
David Weigel | March 6, 2007, 4:08pm
Occasional Reasonoid Brendan O'Neill harrumphs at the "pimping" of the term "genocide" to describe (and drum up pity for) every third world conflict.
Consider how easily the genocide tag is attached to conflicts in Africa. Virtually every recent major African war has been labelled a genocide by outside observers. The Rwandan war of 1994 is now widely recognised as a genocide; many refer to the ongoing violence in Uganda as a genocide. In 2004 then US secretary of state Colin Powell declared, on the basis of a report by an American/British fact-finding expedition to Darfur: ‘We conclude that genocide has been committed in Darfur and that the government of Sudan and the Janjaweed bear responsibility.’ (4) (The UN, however, has not described Darfur as genocide.) Even smaller-scale African wars are discussed as potential genocides. So the spread of instability from Darfur into eastern Chad has led to UN handwringing about ‘genocide in Chad’. During the conflict in Liberia in 2003, commentators warned that ‘Liberia could be plunged into a Rwanda-style genocide’ (5).
The discussion of every war in Africa as a genocide or potential genocide shows that today’s genocide-mongering bears little relation to what is happening in conflict zones on the ground. There are great differences, not least in scale, between the wars in Rwanda, Darfur and Liberia; each of these conflicts has been driven by complex local grievances, very often exacerbated by Western intervention. That Western declarations of ‘genocide!’ are most often made in relation to Africa suggests that behind today’s genocide-mongering there lurks some nasty chauvinistic sentiments. At a time when it is unfashionable to talk about ‘the dark continent’ or ‘savage Africans’, the more acceptable ‘genocide’ tag gives the impression that Africa is peculiarly and sickly violent, and that it needs to be saved from itself by more enlightened forces from elsewhere. Importantly, if the UN judges that a genocide is occurring, then that can be used to justify military intervention into said genocide zone.
I think it's interesting to observe precisely who worries about which "genocide." White liberals tremble over the bloodletting in Africa, and not in Iraq; neoconservatives warn of the killings to come in Iraq if the U.S. leaves "before the job is done" (i.e., before your kids are drawing Social Security).
Paul | March 6, 2007, 8:09pm | #
That's just something we told ourselves to feel better about using the Atom Bomb on women and children. The truth is, the Japanese government had been under control of moderate elements for 6 months beforehand; they even made overtures of surrender through the Swedish government.
That's something we tell ourselves to try bolster a naive view of conflict. After dropping one atom bomb, the Japanese still didn't surrender. After dropping a second atom bomb, the Emperor finally made his infamous surrender recording, which was then almost intercepted by the Japanese military high command as an attempt to stop said surrender. Yes, there were elements of the Japanese government who wanted surrender, and elements that didn't-- the struggle was ensuing.
Now fly across the Pacific to the U.S. and try to understand the mindset of the U.S., the government, the army, and the citizenry. The U.S. had just finished a bloody war in Europe. In addition, an incredibly bloody war of attrition in the pacific had been fought, much of which wasn't even in Japanese territory, and the Japanese had made it abundantly clear that surrender was not something done lightly.
The President, faced with sending more troops at a rather committed enemy on his own territory (read homeland) after seeing what kind of damage was being done for a small section of malaria infested jungle-- wasn't too keen on sending more troops to their death in what was clearly a war of attrition.
Add into the mix that the U.S. was tired, tired, tired of this war, and we had, at our fingertips, a weapon so powerful that surely its use would end the war without expending another American life. At that time, you may recall, the U.S. (and its allies) were only accepting unconditional surrender from Germany AND Japan much to the disappointment of the remaining German General staff.
None of this is to say that dropping the bomb was the correct thing to do. We've certainly learned much in the 50+ years since the bombs were dropped. Hindsight is a remarkable teacher. But without the benefit if hindsight, while controversial and yes, questionable, the decision at the time was understandable.
One oft overlooked fact was the firebombing of Tokyo killed more (about 100,000) than the Nagasaki bomb did and almost as much as the Hiroshima bomb did (if counting related effects).
As I said, we were trying to eliminate members of a national group, certainly in part.
