Category Archives: Non-violence

Mother’s Day Sermon—May 14, 2006

The following sermon notes, although a year old, seem appropriate today.

EPISTLE

James 1: 17 – 21

Every generous act of giving, with every perfect gift, is from above,
coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or
shadow due to change. In fulfilment of his own purpose he gave us birth by
the word of truth, so that we would become a kind of first fruits of his
creatures.

You must understand this, my beloved: let everyone be quick to listen, slow
to speak, slow to anger; for your anger does not produce God’s
righteousness. Therefore rid yourselves of all sordidness and rank growth
of wickedness, and welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the
power to save your souls (NRSV)

GOSPEL

John 16: 5 – 15

But now I am going to him who sent me; yet none of you asks me, “Where are
you going?” But because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled
your hearts. Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage
that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Advocate will not come to you;
but if I go, I will send him to you. And when he comes, he will prove the
world wrong about sin and righteousness and judgement: about sin, because
they do not believe in me; about righteousness, because I am going to the
Father and you will see me no longer; about judgement, because the ruler of
this world has been condemned.

‘I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When
the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he
will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will
declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, because he
will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is
mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it
to you. (NRSV)

SERMON PROPER BEGINS

1870 is a long time ago. The U.S. civil war had ended 5 years previously.
Disabled veterans were a common sight. Families still felt the loss of
children, spouses, parents. Reaching across the barriers of war, Julia
Ward Howe
attempted to find common ground among women of both the U.S. north and south, a common ground rooted in their experience as mothers of those who had lived through war. On the other side of the greeting card holiday world, Mother’s Day was proclaimed with the following words:

Mother’s Day Proclamation – 1870
by Julia Ward Howe

Arise then…women of this day!
Arise, all women who have hearts!
Whether your baptism be of water or of tears!
Say firmly:
“We will not have questions answered by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage,
For caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us
to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We, the women of one country,
Will be too tender of those
of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs.”

From the voice of a devastated Earth
a voice goes up with
Our own. It says: “Disarm! Disarm!
The sword of murder is not the balance of justice.”
Blood does not wipe our dishonor,
Nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil
At the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home
For a great and earnest day of counsel.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace…
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
But of God –
In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality,
May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
And the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,
The great and general interests of peace.

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A world without war, a world where the voices of those often pushed aside
in the rush to war are heard, a world where peace that is greater than the
immediate end of a conflict is to be born—this was the vision shared in
1870 on Mother’s Day.

In a time and place where war is again around us, where violence is seen as
the best way to address conflict, let us remember the women of two opposing sides who found common ground in their desire to ensure that the suffering they knew all too well would not occur again.

This was a generous gift to the world. The book of James tells us that all
such gifts are ultimately from the creator.

Our world is constantly filled with such gifts. In the midst of the
destructive reality of the great depression of the 1930s, when anger and
hopelessness abounded around the world there were gifts of an alternative
way of living, of initiatives to transform the world that would be based on love and not on hate, on trying to live in harmony with the creator and not in competition with the creator and one another. In 1935 four members of the Student Christian Movement—Art Dayfoot, Alex Sim, Archie Manson and Donald MacLean—went to a conference in Indianapolis, Indiana to listen to and learn from Toyohiko Kagawa—a Japanese Christian active in labour, co-operative and peace circles. Kagawa described a new model of co-operative living, one based on shared responsibility and less on pooled equity. Low income people could, together, run a co-operative that met their housing needs. They returned from Indiana and founded Campus Co-operative Homes—the oldest housing co-operative in Canada, If not for their willingness to listen and learn from those from other cultures, not only would then be no Campus Co-op—the co-op housing movement in Canada would have a different nature. Housing co-operatives would be like condominiums, not primarily mixed income communities of individuals sharing their resources to meet common needs.

There are more complex gifts in many times and places. In Israel/Palestine
at this time a network of Muslim, Christian and Jewish people meet
regularly to discuss matters as diverse as different wedding traditions and
how to maintain diverse communities in times of conflict. The Interfaith
Encounter Association
brings together people who are committed to nothing
more than being good neighbours, of caring for the well-being of all. In a
place of inter-communal conflict, this is truly revolutionary. This is
truly a gift from above.

This month a family arrived in Canada from Afghanistan—they are refugees
seeking a new home here. This month Canada rounded up labourers to
deport them—individuals being removed from a place where they
established homes and families and friends. Our country is one both where
strangers are welcomed and where strangers are turned away. Being open to
the gifts of the creator would have us be consistently open to always
welcome the stranger into our community.

All of us can be open to the divine spirit—it isn’t difficult. It would
mean we’d be like the young woman in Holland who opened her home to provide a haven to two Jewish children during the Nazi occupation, described in Saturday’s Toronto Star. It would mean that we’d not shy away from those that are marginalised in our community—from those with AIDS and other diseases we still fear; from those who spent time in our jails and prisons; from those living on the streets. It would mean nothing truly radical—merely treating one another with respect. It would be truly revolutionary—seeking to put aside fear and anger and hatred is seeking to put aside the justifications for war and violence and oppression.

Being open to the divine spirit within ourselves and to seek to find it in
others is a form of spirituality we don’t read much about. It isn’t as
focused as meditation; it isn’t as formal as prayer. But it is an
essential way to being an aware, active, vibrant person of faith. It is
through such openness that we come to realise that we are not alone in
creation, that whatever challenges faith us we never face them alone. It
is through such openness that we can find delight and joy in bearing
witness to the needs of our world and those that are not able to speak for
themselves.

Jesus’ mother, Mary, in Luke 1: 46 – 55 (The Magnificat) responds to the
new life of Jesus and that is possible for all through Jesus when she says:

And Mary said,
‘My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour,
for he has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’

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This gift of wonder and a vision of a transforming divine presence remains
with us. We hear its echoes in formal studies of process and liberation
and feminist theologies. We hear its echoes in pleas, such as Julia Ward
Howe’s Mother’s Day Declaration, for a world where all voices are woven
together to find a way to live in harmony within creation. We hear its
echoes in the actions, from supporting a food bank to non-violently, openly, persistently calling for an end to war.

The Spirit of Truth is here with us to guide us towards a new creation, a
new Jerusalem, a new way of living for and with all. In the midst of all
the demands and pressures of life, let us be open to this active spiritual discipline of radical, living love.

Resist War in All Its Forms

This first appeared in The Activist, Saturday, 11 September 2004

I suspect that a small group of activists based in Southern Ontario in the 1970s changed the Canadian peace movement forever. Bruce Allen, Steve Dankowich and Tom Baker were part of the Totally Eclipsed Anarchist Collective. They were my first contacts with an effective alternative voice for social change—something different than the traditional left I was connected to. One particular approach that they had surprised me—consistency. As they became more formal, ultimately producing the North American Anarchist/Strike, they did some very unpopular things. They were willing to criticise all nuclear weapons—something almost unheard of in the Canadian peace movement of the time. As Bruce and Steve moved on to join the Act for Disarmament Coalition, they brought this with them.

ACT was the first broad based coalition in Canada to oppose soviet missiles as well as U.S. missiles. For them, nuclear disarmament was desirable and all those with nuclear weapons equally culpable for the escalation of the arms race and the effects of militarism on the world. A movement for peace must, I feel, be willing to take unpopular stances—both stances that challenge the powers-that-be and stances that challenge those of us we work among. We may have to, in the words I learned from anarchist Spanish civil war veteran Art Bartell, accept the fact that the enemy of my enemy is also my enemy.

As an example, consider the mainstream churches in Canada. Many have policies in support of peace efforts. There is an ecumenical coalition, Project Ploughshares, that attempts to prompt the world towards a more peaceful society. Yet one finds that the United Church, the Anglican Church of Canada, the Roman Catholic Church and other faith expressions provide some of the most effective supports for the military through providing chaplains to the military. There can be no greater statement that war is morally acceptable than to provide spiritual and moral support to and within the military. I do not believe that the churches can be a true voice for peace unless the churches are no longer a part of the military.

Or consider a factory that provides secure employment, but is able to do so as a supplier of weapons and components for weapons and weapons systems. This is one of the key arguments raised in support of Canadian participation in the son of Star Wars—the possibility of U.S. military contracts. As disruptive as it may be to a community, these facilities that employ our friends and neighbours are essential for modern warfare, indeed for some of the street level violence that is a problem in so many places around the world and if one wants to make a clear statement against war, one should oppose them.

Or consider the very problematic situation of a war involving a large power, say the U.S. and a smaller power, say the Taliban and allies in Afghanistan. Opposing the invasion by the U.S. is one part of opposing war. However, doing so in ways that does not legitimise the use of force or indicate solidarity with an oppressive structure is essential if one is to be a true voice of opposition to war. J.S. Wordworth’s vote against Canadian participation in the Second World War was a rare statement of commitment against war itself.

One real problem of much of the peace movement, a problem that goes back in my memory to the Vietnam War, is that we tend to oppose one side in a war and not war itself. What I am suggesting is perhaps revolutionary—let us oppose the support for war that is dominant in our culture, in the communities that we are a part of. If we are concerned with peace and a member of a church that has military chaplaincies, have that as the focus of a campaign. If one has a small arms factory in one’s community, take a lesson from those that fight to keep poor people out of their neighbourhoods—use the zoning and planning process to make life difficult for those that profit from the tools of war. If one is a professor, don’t participate in military funded research. If one is a student, expose the extent of military funding on campus, and compare it with funding for research that meets human needs. Consider how expressions of social violence such as sexism, racism and LGBTphobia feed into and support violence on a more global scale and look at ways to address that where ever one finds oneself. And, perhaps, take a few risks. Tease the government by participating in conscientious objection to military taxation—Conscience Canada can tell you how. Challenge the dominate co-operations by taking your money out of their hands—from purchasing fair trade products to creating equivalents of the Toronto Dollar to boycotting products from nations such as China or Burma. Learn about the Canadian criminal justice system first hand by doing things like praying on the grounds of a war show or blockading the entrance to the Department of National Defence—people from HASC (Hamilton Action for Social Change) have done this in the past. Learn about successful non-violent resistance so that you can respond to the despair and pathology that leads to the embracing of violence for social change.

And embrace the spirit of Emma Goldman—kicked out of both the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. for being to radical, whose motto “If I Can’t Dance, It’s Not My Revolution” has inspired the Reclaim the Streets and other radical reminders that the commons is for us all and we should find a way to reclaim it in hope and in joy. Our movements must model the world we wish to live in. Let us take the hard path—stating war itself is the enemy.

Frustrations with progressive communities and troublesome people

None of us are perfect. Any of us can get on someone’s nerves. But we know that there are proven and effectives ways of addressing the stresses of normal working relationships from effective listening to external mediation. In the ebb and flow of getting along and working together to achieve common goals we normally do what is necessary to get along so that we actually accomplish something.

However there is one area that, especially within the broader progressive community, where good will and a joint desire to accomplish something can not be addressed using the skills we’ve long practiced—and that is dealing with individuals whose behaviour is damaging to the community they are a part of.

Communities that I am a part of are being torn. One is having to deal with a woman who leaves long vicious phone messages, has run websites to attack the reputation of other activists, who has repeatedly claimed persecution that has not occurred and in other ways targets a small number of activists—almost exclusively male. Another community has been harmed by a leader who has been charged with possession of child pornography, a charge that adds to the problems his alcoholism has caused.

Addressing these problems with the individuals, directly and yet compassionately, failed. Ultimately, in the case of the woman police have been called and she has been convicted of various offences as a result of her actions. Ultimately, the community leader has been removed from all levels of authority in an organisation he had worked hard to nourish.

But before we reached this point we had we contributed to the problems. We excused behaviour, we tried to ignore difficulties, we tried to be inclusive and supportive when destructive behaviours were exhibited, we justified to ourselves and others activities we knew hurt others…In short, we exacerbated the problems, helping to create the situation where lasting harm both to the individuals and to the communities they are a part of came about.

We make assumptions that progressive and faith communities are composed of individuals who can cope for the harmful behaviour of others. Clergy are expected to accept abuse from those in their pastorate; advocates of non-violence are supposed to accept being the target of abuse from others that claim to share the vision. Much of what is hidden under the label “burnout” is the erosion of one’s self confidence by being the target of abuse and harassment.

We need to consider making the difficult decisions to refuse to work with certain individuals long before their actions lead to pain and division. Firm expectations of appropriate actions and expressions of views need to be in place. The alternative is all too apparent—strong organisations that fragment because individuals use the community as a haven where what would not be acceptable behaviour by one’s opponents is justified by one’s friends and acquaintances.

Some of the more egalitarian communities, such as the Quakers, practiced shunning to ensure that the community could actually be diverse and inclusive. This may be contradictory in appearance, but if one individual is acting in a way that drives away others and limits the voices and actions of others then what is collectively possible is deliberately being undone by the actions of a destructive individual..

The broader progressive community is made up of a tapestry of organisations and movements composed of individuals who freely choose to come together. This entire fabric is frayed when we do not address the problems of difficult people.

The consequences of tolerating destructive behaviour are huge. Organisations fragment, confidence is weakened, people are hurt. The effect on the woman whose actions are tolerated should not be overlooked. If we reinforce harmful behaviour, do we not convince everyone that causing harm to others is acceptable? Do we keep justifying worse and worse behaviour until something very bad happens, a path that could have been changed if we responded earlier? Would the woman facing charges of breaching probation been helped more if 15 years ago people told her that her behaviour and views were not acceptable? Would the man whose actions lead to charges and a marring of his work avoided his current crisis if he’d been required to address his drinking problem 15 years ago, when it was known but not addressed by his friends, employers or faith community?

We do no one a favour by tolerating destructive behaviour in our communities.

We also do no one a favour by criticising those that respond to the abuse is ways such as having charges pressed after dealing with months of harassment or by removing from office someone with real substance abuse problems. The right to freely associate includes the rights of people to individually or collectively cease to freely associate with those whose behaviour is harmful.

A Sermon on the Environment, Peace and Hope in Creation

NOTES FOR A MORE COHERENT SERMON
Rev. Brian Burch
Kitchener-Waterloo House Churches
Sunday, February 9, 2003

Texts: Genesis 1: 1 – 2:3
Revelations 21:1 – 6
Matthew 4: 43 – 48

Current news brings forward images from the past. I hear of bombing raids in Iraq and I think of the burning of the oil fields in Kuwait. This image of uncontrolled fire remains with me—it shows war and its effect on the natural world in a terrifying way. War has become a attack on the natural world, an attack on the gift of creation itself. The turning our back on something declared by God to be good is separate from all the other wrongs inherent in war, a clear enunciation that war itself is inherently evil and thus unjustifiable.

Creation, existence, life itself is inherently good, an offering from God. Peace and justice exist in response to this grace, this gift of creation. We have these dreams as echoes of the spirit that moved upon the waters, offering something new and delighting in the process of giving. Repeatedly we are told that it is good—water and air and animals and humanity. And the process wasn’t isolated—let us create man in our own image is a statement of appeal to a community; at the moment of existence of humanity we were declared a social being. Social beings care
for one another.

As well, humanity is to care for creation—a dominion is held for the future. Our relationship to nature, to creation, is that of a caretaker and not an exploiter. We live within creation and not separate from it. Humanity seems to have lost some of this emphasis over time—turning our backs on a divinity that is reflected in creation is a return to a view that one’s relationship to God does not necessarily demand any practical embracing of a creation theology. Just like living out the love of Jesus for all is not restricted to followers of Christ only caring for those that follow Christ, living out an inclusive view of God’s gift of creation has universal applications. Indeed, the passage from Matthew makes it clear that the gifts of creation are for everyone, not just for a chosen few. The responsibility to care for creation is not a responsibility to care for part of creation and to separate the benefits into separate approaches for deserving and undeserving recipients.

Both the vision of creation and the vision of the end times focuses on good—the creation of life; the ending of suffering; God being intimately with us. We reflect this in the radical consideration of the moment—each moment when we do not act to harm another, we do not act in ways harmful to the earth, we accept the possibility of the beginning and ending of time spiraling in the moment we are in.

Respect for the goodness of creation does not mean that we hold a view that the physical world does not include danger. Much of the danger we experience, though, is due either to humans being willfully blind to the realities of nature—building on flood plains or the side of an active volcano or, much more significantly, due to our collective despoiling of nature. We pollute air and water; we clear cut forests and create deserts; we pillage and loot the life that is intended to sustain us. And, through the use of depleted uranium, military toxic waste dumps, incendiary devices, defoliants and other long lasting attacks on nature, we combine attacks on one another with attacks on creation.

Creating a world where war isn’t looming over us requires the building up in the here and now of models that show that violence is not the way to deal with the stresses and conflicts of daily life. The more that we live in peace with ourselves and in harmony with our neighbours, the harder it becomes to coerce us to embrace violence, to participate in evil. When we establish a community kitchen or find a home for a couch surfer; when we work for victim-offender reconciliation programmes or prepare a relief kit for a war refugee we help weave together a stronger civil society. And to the extent that we share these efforts across cultures and communities, to the extent that we learn from those we rarely notice, to that extent we undermine the culture of violence, the culture of war.

The wonder of a sunset is based on the weaving together of hundreds of delicate shades into a powerful vision. Revolutionary change is built on small things, not the dramatic. Apartheid was doomed not when the African National Congress picked up weapons in the 1950s, but when women of all races started meeting in each other’s kitchens in the late 1970s. A just peace in the Middle East can’t be build upon suicide bombings or the bulldozing of buildings but by groups of Christians, Jews and followers of Islam supporting each other in difficult times, one visible example being parents sharing their grief and support across the artificial barriers of Israeli and Palestinian after the death of their children as a result of political violence. The stopping of clear cutting near Grassy Narrows is a task taken up by first nations people and those from Christian Peacemakers sharing together the responsibility of being stewards of creation.

Perfection, to Christians, is an achievable perfection, not a transcendent concept. It is rooted in actions practiced during easy times to the extent that they are ingrained during times of crisis. Caring for one another can become a habit, a way of relating to one another and therefore to all of creation.  Jesus, in the passage from Matthew, makes the demand that we become perfect. We are actually to care for everyone. Jesus reminds us that the gifts of creation aren’t withheld from some but are for everyone. Jesus expects his followers to extend this—the blessings of a practical, loving and transcending faith are for everyone. We feed everyone that is hungry, we visit everyone in prison, we ask for healing of all the ill, we care for our opponents as people sharing in creation.

In France, there are fields of grain where war once raged. In Assisi last year representatives of all faiths joined together to call for peace. There are signs of hope, of a return to the simplest demands of loving one another, of loving our God all around us.  We need to hold onto such visions at a time when flames are being prepared for cities in a foreign lands. We need to state publicly and firmly that war will not be waged in our name. We need to live as those that remember that God declared creation to be good.

Responsible for War/Responsible for Peace

This was widely circulated in March 2003. While some of the references are time or seasonally specific, the general focus is still apt.

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Snow is beginning to melt outside, a temporary thaw. Tonight the melted snow will freeze into a sheet of ice on the sidewalk outside my co-op unit. This will create a hazard for my neighbours. I can wait for spring to arrive, letting the future take care of the current problem. I can wait for the city’s Public Works Department to respond at some point to calls for action against the icy sidewalk. Or I can some responsibility and sprinkle some substance that will melt the ice and scrap the slush off the sidewalk, ensuring that there is a safe place to walk outside my home. The last way of responding is the best way of dealing with the problem — taking responsibility in the here and now will actually resolve the situation.

Around us wars are waging — from civil wars in Columbia and the Ivory Coast to a threatened U.S. global war against Iraq. The use of violence for political purposes is embraced by governments and opponents. And while some small scale experiments by Peace Brigades International, Christian Peacemaker Teams and other expressions of public and radical non-violence, are ongoing in places of conflict indicating a willingness on the part of individuals to take personal responsibility for a world free of violence and related expressions of injustice, most opposition to war and to other expressions of political violence is limited to calling on the state to do something. With war being more pervasive, we do not have the luxury to wait for some future response to build a world without war. We need to take responsibilities where we are, in the institutions we are a part of, to start the work of making war a historical phenomena.

Two recent calls for action both encouraged me and disappointed me — one from the faith community and one from the student movement.

I was strongly moved by Pope John Paul II calling for fasting and prayers for peace during this Lenten season. His is only one of the voices from the faith communities challenging the rush to war, but it is a significant voice. But I also found this call disappointing. None of the religious leaders that gathered in Assisi last year have moved their support for peace from theoretical or spiritual in expression to the one, real concrete authority that churches have — forbidding their clergy from participating in the military, indeed in any structure that supports the killing of others. As long the clergy are woven into the fabric of violent organisations, the religious communities they belong to have a muted peace expression.

It is time, indeed almost too late, for those concerned about
peace who are active within the mainstream faith communities to expand their calls for a peaceful world to include demilitarising the churches. Yes, our political leaders and those that sit around the table at the U.N. Security Council must hear the demand that war is wrong. But equally, the churches must be challenged to become true partners in the work for peace — living examples of a structure without arms.

Those students in the streets of Toronto and other cities recently are responding in creative and persistent ways to a world that is more and move a violent one. In their voices I hear a cry for a world that has room for all people. I was surprised to not hear, however, cries to demilitarise the university campuses. From military and intelligence services funding university research to active recruiting on campuses, universities are intimately linked to the war machine. Calling on George Bush to not bomb Iraq is important. But as long as universities help make the fighting of wars possible, the voice of students and faculty concerned with peace is muted.

We are missing opportunities to uproot violence in our communities and in our institutions, contributing to the acceptance of a war culture. Whether it is acceptance of the view that ends justify the means that seems to be imbedded in parts of the social justice movement or the moving to a secondary level of concern the need to address homophobia, sexism, anti-Semitism and racism among our allies; we still imitate in our movements for social change the evils of the dominant society. It is hard to expect better of the state when we accept abuse within our own movements. If we want war to end, we need to start dealing with our own violence, our own capabilities for oppression, as well.

I am excited when the progressive communities take up the challenge of calling for peace in new ways — whether it is the presentation of 16,000 peace poems to the U.S. government or virtual pickets or the spectacles of puppets. I am humbled by those in the ploughshares’ movement who risk their freedom in a spirit of peaceful, open confrontation with a system that can not cope with the truth. Those that participate in conscience objection to military service in Israel, Turkey and other lands are making clear statements that violence can only be conducted by those willing to engage in it.

While we are working for the state to disarm, let us disarm those institutions we are intimately involved with. It can be on a person level, from participating in peace tax resistance, or on a collective scale when we demand our church not permit clergy to serve in the military or our university cease to permit military recruitment on campus, or on a transforming level when we don’t accept with silence oppressive acts by those we work with and care for.

Ultimately war can only be fought with our consent. Let us learn to withdraw consent for war and violence in our homes, schools, churches and organisations. The more we cease to co-operate with violence and the structures that support war, the harder it will be for wars to be acceptable; the easier it will be for war to be a historical phenomena.

Accepting and Assigning Responsibility for Violence

My generation grew up listening to songs such as Universal Soldier,
Who Killed Norma Jean? and Who Killed Davy Moore. Such songs
reminded us that there is a web of responsibility for violence and suffering.
With violence and suffering being, at least in the broader media, being all pervasive it is hard to avoid knowing that people are hungry, people are homeless, people are full of despair, people are killing and being killed. We can’t legitimately turn away and claim that we don’t know that there are wars and civil conflict, social injustice, political oppression and personalised acts of
violence occurring.

One approach to assigning responsibility and sharing accountability is legal in nature. Much of the media coverage of the killings at the recent killings at Virginia Tech focused on the acts of an individual. Some commentators have mentioned the need for gun control. Rarely addressed is the web of people who profited by the deaths—all those who were directly involved in the production, distribution and sales of the weapons and ammunition chose to be involved in making sure that there are weapons available for large scale, depersonalised violence. In different areas courts and legislatures have held tobacco companies and even individual bar staff responsible for the harm caused by the sales of their products. In the U.S. some municipal and state governments, as well as public interest groups, have attempted to use the courts to hold gun manufacturers, distributers and/or sellers responsible for the harm their products have caused. Those that sold the guns used at Virginia Tech did little or no background screening of who they sold the weapons to. If courts can hold bar staff at least partially responsible for the injuries caused by a drunk driver, it is reasonable to consider that those that provide the weapons used in an act of violence could be help liable for their negligence. Indeed, it is hard to not view the profits of manufacturing, distribution and sales of weapons as the profits of crime.

A less legalistic approach is to look at the tapestry of social relationships
and information that supports the use of violence. From violence sanctioned
by religious leaders to invasions of other countries to violence based entertainment, the use and advocacy of violence as a legitimate problem solving technique or a source of fun can not be easily avoided. What happened at Virginia Tech is not unique. Nor is the death toll unknown. The April 23, 2007 Toronto Sun had a very vivid cartoon—a calendar with each day labelled Iraq and the daily death toll marked. Given the pervasive acceptance of violence by those with power, it is not surprising that violence will be embraced by those on the margins.

A more personal approach is to look at ourselves. Do we find violence funny? Are jokes about suffering a way of downplaying the seriousness of the issue? Do we make excuses, like “Boys will be boys” when our children are violent or the victims of violence in a school ground? Do we consider martial arts a worthy discipline? Do we make appologies for the violence of our friends, aquaintenances and loved ones? Do we consider what happens we when we pay for war? Does our own way of describing ourselves, our status, our employment depend on violent images? In what ways do we, through precept and example, show in our individual lives that violence is okay?

If we are going to ever live in a world free from war, free from violence, then our shared responsibility in perpetuating such evil must be acknowledged. If we accept our individual and social responsibility, that would be a first step in changing our personal and collective behaviour away from violence reinforcing to life enhancing.

A Peace Liturgy/Service

I’m occasionally asked to lead worship on particular themes related to peace and justice. What follows is one that was done for the Toronto Catholic Worker community.

CATHOLIC WORKER COMMUNITY
5 Close Avenue
Toronto

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 2004
(Service for Peace and Justice,
in solidarity with the many at the gates of the School of the Americas)

REFLECTIVE MUSIC

Greenwood (sung by Peter, Paul and Mary)

I’ve seen a thousand people kneel in silence.
I’ve seen them face the rifles with their songs.
I’ve always thought that we could end the killing,
But now I live in fear that I was wrong.

The killer and the cynic waltz together.
Their eyes are turned into their skulls.
They do not feel the bullets in the bodies.
They do not hear the dolphin or the gull.

If we do these things in the green wood,
What will happen in the dry?

If we don’t stop there’ll come a time when women
With barren womb will bitterly rejoice.
With breasts that dry and never fill with promise,
Gladly they’ll not suckle one more life.

Is this then the whimper and the ending,
The impotence of people raised on fear?
A fear that binds the sense of common oneness,
That common love and life or death are here.

If we do these things in the green wood,
What will happen in the dry?

Will no one light a candle in the darkness?
Will not one be my guide, not let me fall?
I’ve lost the sense that tells me where the path is.
I feel the chill of winter in my soul.

There no way I can say the words more plainly.
There’s no one left to point at any more.
It’s you and me, and we must make the choice now,
And not destroy the life we’re living for.

If we do these things in the green wood,
What will happen in the dry?
If we do these things in the green wood,
What will happen in the dry?

GATHERING LITANY

One: We have chosen to be here, forming one body out of many.
All: We are one in the Spirit; we are one in Christ.
One: With us are those we see and those who share our vision
but are scattered across creation.
All: We are one in the Spirit; we are one in Christ.
One: We share a vision arising from differing experiences—men and women, gay and straight, rich and poor, of many races, creeds and cultures that are one with us in this moment.
All: We are one in the Spirit; we are one in Christ.

One: We have chosen to be here in a time of war when we have called for peace.
All: We have chosen to be here in a time of injustice when we have called for liberation.
One: We have chosen to be here in a time of fear  when we have called for hope.
All: We have chosen to be here in a time of action as a sign of faith.

One: We have chosen to be here in a time of darkness as a sign of light.

All: We are one in the Spirit; we are one in Christ.

One: Creating and healing and transforming God,
God who makes one of all those
sharing in the hope of faith,
remind us that we are more
than the people in this room
and more than the present time
that we may be your instrument
for peace and justice
in the present time and for all time.
All: Amen.

SONG: Jesus Christ is Waiting

Jesus Christ is waiting, waiting in the streets;
no one is his neighbour, all alone he eats.
Listen, Lord Jesus, I am lonely too.
Make me, friend or stranger,
fit to wait on you.

Jesus Christ is raging, raging in the streets,
where injustice spirals
and real hope retreats.
Listen, Lord Jesus, I am angry too.
In the Kingdom’s causes
Let me rage with you.

Jesus Christ is healing,
healing in the streets;
Curing those who suffer,
touching those he greets.
Listen, Lord Jesus, I have passion too.
Let my care be active, healing just like you.

Jesus Christ is dancing, dancing in the streets,
where each sign of hatred
He, with love, defeats.
Listen, Lord Jesus, we should triumph too.
On suspicion’s graveyard
let us dance with you.

Jesus Christ is calling, calling in the streets,
‘Who will join my journey?
I will guide their feet.’
Listen, Lord Jesus, let my fears be few.
Walk one step before me; I
will follow you.

(Text: John Bell, alt. Tune: Now the Green Blade Rises
Iona Community, Scotland GIA publications)

READINGS AND REFLECTION

Do not wonder that the world hates you. We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love one another. Those who do not love abide in death. Anyone who hates one another is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in them. By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. But if any one has the world’s goods and sees another in need, yet closes their heart, how does God love abide in them? Little children, let us not love in word or speech but in deed and in truth.
(1 John 3: 13 – 19)

There is found all the Old Testament in Moses and Elijah
and all the New Testament in Peter, James, and John
confronting the clever fables,
the teachings of human beings,
the false redemptions that humans promise,
so that they can trust in him.
And, says St. Peter, almost poetically,
this faith,
like a lamp burning in the night,
will light up the darkness until the morning star arises.
It is the night of our history,
it is the journey of our time,
it is these difficult hours,
such as our land is undergoing,
which seem like a night without escape –
until the sun of the transfiguration
brings daylight and hope to the Christian people,
enlightening our way.
Let us be faithful to it.
Dear brothers and sisters,
the church knows it is God’s lamp,
light taken from the glowing face of Christ
to enlighten human lives, the lives of peoples,
the complications and problems
that humans create in their history.
The church feels obliged to speak, to enlighten
like the lamp in the night.
The church feels compelled to light up the darkness.

(from Oscar Romero’s The Violence of Love)

One: Hear the promise of our Saviour, Christ:
Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of God.
People: Grant us this grace, O Christ our redeemer.
One: Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
People: Grant us this grace, O Christ our redeemer.
One: Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.
People: Grant us this grace, O Christ our redeemer.
One: Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
People: Grant us this grace, O Christ our redeemer.
One: Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
People: Grant us this grace, O Christ our redeemer.
One: Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
People: Grant us this grace, O Christ our redeemer.
One: Blessed are you when people revile you
and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.
Rejoice and be glad,
for your reward is great in heaven.
People: Grant us this grace, O Christ our redeemer.

(adapted from Matthew 5: 1 – 12)

PRAYERS FROM THE PEOPLE

SHARING OF THE PEACE

Song: God Bless Us and Disturb Us

God Bless us and disturb us
As we celebrate this feast
When Christ who was the highest
Came to earth to be the least
Lest we confine to Satan’s power
Those for whom joy has ceased.

CHORUS:
O Come Christ the Saviour
From below, from above
And infect the depths of earth
With heavenly love.

Where Colombia’s people
Cry for justice which is true.
Where Iraq’s hungry children
Cry for food which is their due
Where North Americans declare
“Our wealth has come from you

CHORUS:

When powers thrive on heroin
Where people run from pain
Where parents watch an addict child
Left life run down the drain
Where hope’s a hit, a drink, a shot
And death seems like a gain

CHORUS:

Where Christian folk detach ourselves
From following the cross
By spotlighting the cradle
As if that was all there was
Where who gets what at Christmas
Turns our minds from grace to dross

CHORUS

From Bethlehem and Washington,
Iraq and old Queen’s Park
To where a star is needed
Since the night is doubly dark
To where our lives await the Lord
To Set us on God’s mark

CHORUS

(Text: John Bell, alt. Tune: God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen
Iona Community, Scotland GIA Publications)

PREPARATION FOR THE FEAST

One: Blessed are you, Lord God of the Universe.
You are the giver of this bread, fruit of the earth
and of human labour.
Let it become the bread of Life.
All: Blessed be God, now and forever.
One: Blessed are you, Lord God of the Universe
You are the giver of this wine, fruit of the vine
and of human labour.
Let it become the wine of the eternal kingdom.
All: Blessed be God, now and forever.
One: As the grain once scattered in the fields and
the grapes once dispersed on the hillside
are now reunited on this table in bread and wine,
so Lord may your whole Church soon be gathered together
from the corners of the earth into your Kingdom.
All: Blessed be God, now and forever.
One: “Peace I give to you. My own peace I leave with you.
Peace, not as the world gives, but of God.”
Let us present ourselves, as living gifts, to God’s work of peace.
All: God is with us.
One: Let us open our hearts to God.
All: We open them to God and to one another.
One: Let us give thanks to God.
All: It is right to give God thanks and praise.
One: We thank you, Almighty Father,
Because for us you have raised your Son,
Our Lord Jesus Christ,
From the dead.
In him you sent us peace
and freed us from death.
He has become our forgiveness,
our hope, and our life.
Because you raised him
and gave him glory,
we give you thanks
and join in your whole creation
in a hymn of praise, saying
All: Holy, holy, holy
Lord God of Hosts
Heaven and earth are full of your God,
Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed be he that comes in the name of the Lord.
Hosanna in the highest.

One: We thank you, almighty Father,
from the very beginning
you promised us peace.
Despite our sins and our guilt
you have worked to unlock our hearts.
We sought after the pagan food of Egypt,
and you led us to a land of milk and honey,
We broke away from your covenant,
and you welcomed us back to fellowship.
We turned away from you to idols,
and you returned us from exile.
Finally we locked ourselves within the Law,
and you sent your only Son
to free us from bondage
with a new covenant of freedom.
He has moved among us
teaching and healing,
and we have known him in the breaking of bread.

For we remember how,
on the night before he died,
he took bread and wine,
gave you thanks and praise, and said:
This is my body broken for you,
and my blood, shed for you and all my people
so that sins may be forgiven.
Whenever you do this,
you will do it in memory of me.

And now, Lord, we remember and celebrate
how your son climbed the cross,
how he suffered and died to free us,
and how he rose from he dead
so that he might bring us peace
and the gift of the Holy Spirit
as a sign of the glory which awaits us.
Let us proclaim our salvation:

All: Dying you destroyed death,
rising you restored our life.

Lord Jesus, come in glory.

One: Send your Holy Spirit, Lord,
upon these gifts and this meal.
May we share this living bread
and this living cup as a people
freed from unbelief and scepticism,
united with the Church and all Christians
by the peace of the resurrection
in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Who lives and reigns with you,
in the unity of the holy spirit,
now and forever.

All: Amen.

SHARING OF THE TABLE

PRAYER OF BENEDICTION AND CHALLENGE

All: Speak Lord, for thy servant hears.
Grant us ears to hear,
Eyes to see,
Wills to obey,

Hearts to love;
Then declare what thou will,
Reveal what thou will,
Command what thou will,
Demand what thou will. Amen

(Christian Rossetti)

One: Let us depart from this place and time
to be a voice of peace in a time of conflict,
a voice of justice in a time of oppression,
a voice of love in a time of callousness.
May the Lord bless us and sustain us in
our journey towards shalom.

SONG: Never Turning Back

We’re gonna keep on walking forward
Keep on walking forward
Keep on walking forward
Never turning back
Never turning back

We’re gonna keep on singing boldly…

We’re gonna break down walls of hatred…

We’re gonna open prison doors…

I am an anarchist/I Am a Pacifist

This was written in the period after the Seattle anti G8 protests and fairly widely circulated on e-mail lists.

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If one wants to bruise an ego or create a heated discussion on a fan or political e-mail list these days, the easiest way seems to be to suggest that violence is wrong. There will all too often be a flurry of responses that can be summarised as having one of three focuses:

(1) The writer is a white, male, euro-centric trying to impose a tactic on those involved with militant struggles for survival;
(2) Violence is essential for social change—there would have not been a French, America, Russian, Chinese, Cuban revolution without it;
(3) That Violence is essential to bring attention to an issue.

Responding to any of these criticisms is attacked in vehement fashion. And yet I still think my concerns do need to be addressed and considered and not summarily rejected.

My responses to the three basic criticisms are fairly straight forward.
To the first, the answer is clear—the primarily public faces of non-violence in the 20th century have been non-white (e.g. Ghandi, Martin Luther King) or women (e.g. Aung San Suu Kyi, Mothers of May Square). Material from non-European sources such as Non-violence to Animals, Earth and Self in Asian Traditions, are studied to help strengthen the theoretical underpinnings of non-violent resistance. It has been those involved with non-violence in revolutionary situations around the world that who influenced and inspired non-violent resistance in less repressive situations.

To the second criticism, that violence is essential to social change, I point out two things—first, that often massive non-violent resistance that occurred during under repressive regimes or in revolutionary situations, from anti-apartheid struggles to the general strike in Nicaragua, can be pointed to as the real challenge to authorities. Second, and more contentious, I suggest that the means used point to the end result. The more violence was a part of the revolutionary movement, the more it has been used to centralise power and create or recreate a repressive regime by a new elite.

The third critical point criticism, that violence is essential to bringing attention to an issue, is a key part of the ‘diversity of tactics’ debate. To respond requires considering what is and is not violence. I believe that property damage, under some circumstances, is not violence as it can be done in a way that does not cause or threaten to cause harm to others. However, the one-day general strike in Toronto during the Days of Action managed to get massive media coverage without violence. And there was more, sustained and more positive media coverage (or response to media coverage) for to such protests as the Queen’s Park Plant-in or the Hamilton War Show protests than for protests that have used force against property (i.e. the June 16th 2000 protest at Queen’s Park).

I think this speaks to points 2 and 3. And the appeal to violence also seems to be a denial of the really hard work essential to social change—the day to day organizing, networking, co-ordinating, encouraging, supporting and maintaining a spirit of resistance. If violence works, then I don’t need to work with my neighbour to find common ground. I, and a small elite, can obtain the same results with or without their consent if violence is sufficient.
Although I can acknowledge an emotional appeal of violence—the desire for revenge or a sense of urgency in light of a crisis—I can not as an anarchist ultimately accept the use of any tactic that is destructive and coercive. The use of power over anyone is ultimately evil—a term I am consciously using. And if I reject violence but desire social change, I must be an advocate of non-violent resistance. And if I advocate non-violent resistance, it is only logical that I am opposed to war and therefore a pacifist.

Advocating these positions becomes self-alienating from many forms of public dissent and resistance. As an anarchist, for example, the idea of asking the state for permission to dissent is anathema. Therefore I do not go to demonstrations where permits have been applied for.

Because I advocate non-violence, I will not participate in actions where tactics I am opposed to our are likely to be used. And because I am a pacifist, I will not go to demonstrations against military force that are not also against war itself.

Being self-alienated is far different than exclusion. Experience has lead me to believe that I am welcome to add my body to any mainstream protest—providing I agree to obey the marshals—or to more militant protests providing I do not interfere in the actions or, indeed, am willing to share in the risks. And, like most, I am welcome to take part in any public discussion up to the point where my views are felt to be beyond the acceptable. In one setting, this exceeding of tolerance could be raising the perspective that people of faith should be holding the churches accountable for the harm they have been and continue to be a part of. In another setting it can be suggesting that not everyone present supports violence for political purposes. But welcomes are extended and it is, I admit, stubbornness on my part that results in exclusion. All I would have to do is be silent.

I think I am troubled most by two things implicit in the comments that sparked this reflection. I am unable to understand why violence, indeed killing of one’s opponents, can be accepted by anarchists as a valid political tool. This ultimate negation of the value of individuals is a view I can understand being held by those that who advocate the value of a revolutionary state or a vanguard party, but I can’t reconcile it with core anarchist values.

And I can not understand why people opposed to war add their voices to those that who advocate political violence as if there is can be any common ground between pacifists and those trying to legitimise violence. Particularly in a struggles such as that in the Middle East, adding one’s voice uncritically or indiscriminately to the Palestinians or to the Israeli’s can only continue the use of violence. It is time for pacifists to seriously consider saying support for justice struggles is to be intimately linked to support for those actively involved in non-violent forms of resistance. This would include standing between Israeli tanks and Palestinian refugees, but also standing with Palestinian women threatened with ‘honour’ killings and non-violent activists threatened with torture and murder for ‘collaborating’ with Israelis. It would also mean sitting in cafes in Jerusalem and escorting Israeli children to and from school in Tel Aviv. If we want a revolution, we must try to build it in the here and now.

Decades ago I was accused of romanticising guerrilla struggles. Perhaps I have come to romanticise non-violence. But ongoing reading on the topic, experimenting with non-violent resistance, leading workshops on non-violence and creative dissent and talking with people from around the world that who have been putting their lives on the line for social change and who are still refusing to use violence against their opponents, has lead me to feel that only non-violent resistance can be anti-hierarchical.

In this time of overwhelming urgency, from wars to environmental degradation to continued racism, sexism and homophobia to hunger and homelessness, the need for action is obvious. But in our deliberations and considerations, let us not become like those we oppose. Instead, let us experiment with alternatives institutions and strategies and forms of relationships and decision making; let us advocate carnivals instead of conflict; let us all learn to say “NO!” when asked to co-operate with injustice and oppression; let us share in the risks by neither bearing arms nor being silent.

As communities can engage in armed resistance for generations without giving up, surely we can also engaged in militant forms of non-violent, public, inclusive resistance for years if necessary. We will, like those that who use violence, be subjected to harassment, arrests, jailing and the possibility of death. This is a reality with any movement for social change. But we won’t have to wait for the withering away of the state if we work in the here and now for the development of the type of world we’d like to see in place of the nation state, in place of all forms of hierarchical, institutional authorities.

And these alternatives will never come to birth if we mimic in the here and now those we oppose—and the use of violence is the most sincere form of mimicry we can adopt. Political violence is not the scalpel that assists with a caesarean to ensure a successful but difficult birth. Rather, it is the dioxin that crosses the placenta and damages the potential for a new and joyous life.

Note: This essay is strongly influenced by:

Ackerman, Peter and Jack DuVall. A Force More Powerful: A Century of Non-Violent Conflict. St. Martin’s Press, New York 2000.

Albert, David H. People Power: Applying Nonviolence Theory. New Society Publishers, Philadelphia 1985.

Anderson, Shelley and Janet Larmore, ed. Nonviolent Struggle and Social Defence. War Resisters International, London 1991.

Bruckner, D. J. R., Seymour Chwast and Steven Heller. Art Against War: 400 Years of Protest in Art. Abbeville Press, New York 1997.

Chapple, Christopher Key. Nonviolence to Animals, Earth and Self in Asian Traditions. State University of New York Press, Albany 1993.

Harper, Clifford, Dennis Gould and Jeff Cloves, eds. Visions of Poesy: An Anthology of 20th Century Anarchist Poetry. Freedom Press, London 1994.

Herngren, Per. Path of Resistance. Margaret Rainey, translator. New Society Publishers, Philadelphia 1993.

Kropotkin, Peter. Mutual Aid, third edition. Introduction by Paul Avrich. Penguin Press, London 1972

Lynd, Staughton, ed. Nonviolence in America: A Documentary History. Bobbs-Merrill Company Ltd., New York 1966. Library of Congress Number 65-23010.

MacQueen, Graeme, ed. Unarmed Forces. Science for Peace, Toronto 1992.

Marshall, Peter. Demanding the Impossible: A History of Anarchism. HarperCollins, London 1992.

Martin, Brian. Strip the Experts. Freedom Press, London 1991.
Social Defense Social Change. Freedom Press, London 1993.

Mayer, Peter, ed. The Pacifist Conscience. Holt, Rinehart and Winston, New York 1966.

McCallister, Pam, ed. Reweaving the Web of Life. New Society Publishers, Philadelphia 1982.

McReynolds, David. We Have Been Invaded by the 21st Century. Grove Press, New York 1968.

Merton, Thomas. The Non-violent Alternative. McGraw-Hill Ryerson, Toronto 1980.

Montessori, Maria. Education and Peace. Helen R. Lane, trans. Henry Regnery Company, Chicago 1972.

Moorehead, Caroline. Troublesome People: Enemies of War. Hamish Hamilton, London 1987.

Morgan, Robin. The Demon Lover: On the Sexuality of Terrorism. W.W. Norton, London 1989.

Penner, Kate, ed. Risking for Change: Stories of Ordinary People. First Freedom Foundation, Victoria 1999.

Powers, Roger S. and William B. Vogele, eds. Protest, Power, and Change: An Encyclopedia of Nonviolent Action. Garland Publishing, New York 1997.

San Suu Kyi, Aung with Alan Clements. The Voice of Hope. Seven Stories Press, New York 1997. ISBN 01-888363-83-5.

Sharp, Gene. Exploring Nonviolent Alternatives. Porter Sargent Publisher, Boston 1970.

Teske, Robin L. and Mary Ann TŽtreault, eds. Conscious Acts and the Politics of Social Change. University of South Carolina Press, Columbia 2000.

Wehr, Paul, Heidi Burgess & Guy Burgess, eds. Justice Without Violence. Lynne Reinner Publishers, Boulder 1994.

Woodcock, George. Anarchism and Anarchists. Quarry Press, Kingston 1992.
Anarchism: A History of Libertarian Ideas and Movements. Meridian
Books, New York 1962.

You Can’t Blow Up A Social Relationship: The Anarchist Case Against Terrorism. Libertarian Socialist Organisation, Brisbane 1980.

Groups and websites:

Ahimsazine. Affinity Place, Argenta British Columbia V0G 1B0 <ahimsazine@email.com> www.ahimsazine.com.

Conscience Canada. 901-70 Mill Street Toronto ON M5A 4R1 <consciencecanada@shaw.ca> <www.consciencecanada.ca>

The Long Arc. P.O. Box 73620, 509 St. Clair Ave. W., Toronto, Ontario, CANADA M6C 1C0. tasc@web.ca <www.homesnotbombs.ca>. Very sporatic.

More Than A Paycheck. National War Tax Resistance Co-ordinating Committee. P.O. Box 150553, Brooklyn, New York 11215. <nwtrcc@lightlink.com> <www.nwtrcc.org> 6/yr. $15.00 U.S./yr.

WIN Magazine. War Resisters League, 339 Lafayette Street, New York, New York 10012. <wrl@warresisters.org> <www.warresisters.org>

Direct Action Includes Trying to Solve the Problem

I wrote the following in 2001, just before the first project of St. Clare’s Multifaith
Housing Society
formally opened. While it is rooted in a particular time,
the thoughts continue to have meaning for me.

DIRECT ACTION INCLUDES SOLVING THE PROBLEM
Some personal reflections

Mon, 29 Oct 2001

I’ve been asked by several people about what is happening with St. Clare’s and 25 Leonard Ave. In summary, renovations are almost completed and we expect the move-ins to occur around December 1st.

I’ve also be asked why an advocate of non-violent direct action forms of protest is involved in what is seen by many as a form of activity at odds with much of my public persona.

This piece should help, I hope, address this.

“To act directly is to address the actual issue of your concern. If you’re working against hunger, it might be simply giving someone a meal. If you’re working against homelessness, it might be taking over an abandoned house and making it liveable. If you want to stop military spending, it might be refusing to pay your income taxes.”

Martin Kelly.

In the next few weeks 51 new units of housing will be coming into existence in Toronto, opening up because people with decades of experience in non-violent resistance felt it was possible to do something direct, practical and concrete to address homelessness in Toronto. After symbolic actions, such as the Queen’s Park Plant-in or May Day on Bay, as a part of Toronto Action for Social Change (TASC), the movement to direct action was not a major leap.

Thus members of TASC could be found joining with the Ontario Coalition Against Poverty at direction action housing protests at 88-90 Carlton Street and the Doctors’ Hospital occupation. And members of TASC could also be found putting in bids to purchase buildings for the purpose of converting them to housing.

This search for space was definitively based on hope—that once a suitable building was found, funding would also be found. This hope was proven to be true as support has come from government, religious orders, individuals, co-op organizations and foundations for the work of converting 25 Leonard into affordable, transitional housing.

In the process of attempting to obtain building for conversion to housing, it was quickly felt that a different organization, separate from TASC, was essential—and thus St. Clare’s Multifaith Housing Society was formed. Our specific mandate is to develop affordable housing for those currently in the shelter and support services networks. St. Clare’s is a registered charity, with published annual reports and annual audits available to our donors and contributors.

Working on the 25 Leonard Project has been an interesting experience. We did not expect, when we began, to be subjected to lengthy appeals and law suites by people in the Kensington Market area opposed to housing those in need—battles we were successful in fighting but expensive both financially and emotionally. Being hit with development levees by the Roman Catholic Separate School Board was a blow that really hurt—and for a brief period threatened the ability of the project to go ahead. Fortunately the City of Toronto agreed to lend St. Clare’s the over $63,000 necessary to cover these fees. Even issues like asbestos containment and contaminated soil removal were problems we had little experience in dealing with until the problem was apparent—and the solutions required hard to come by funds.

We have sat down with neighbours and contractors, architects and city officials to work out problems and find solutions to ensure that at the end of the day 51 units of new transitional housing would be created.

We have reviewed and adapted budget projections, made difficult decisions around furnishing and fixtures and found ways of working together that make sense for a diverse board. We were fortunate to have as staff and consultants people like Jon Harstone and Margo Davidson (yes, the Margo that was part of the Parachute Club), who have poked and prodded us into being a board of management, a challenge given our background in movement activism.

This has not lessened the commitment of the board of St. Clare’s for personal participation in public dissent around housing and justice issues. The majority of our board was in Quebec City and took part in the recent Ontario Common Front protests in Toronto. However, personal commitment to street level politics are seen as personal commitments. St. Clare’s is a formal, focused charitable developer composed of people struggling to bridge these two worlds.

The background of our board is perhaps more typical of those that came together in the late 60s to challenge the ways that new housing was developed. Three were active in the Student Christian Movement. There are people from pagan, Jewish, atheist, Christian and agnostic backgrounds involved. Three had been part of the Alliance for Non-Violent Action. And while three of the directors have been involved as staff or board with various housing organizations, none had experience in developing new housing without a government programme. Yet we’ve done the impossible and new housing exists.

Our participation in street protests are symbolic actions. It is our mainstream work that actually seems to express our commitment to direct action. Symbolic action draws attention to issues. Direct action is taking initiatives that actually solve all or part of the problem. 25 Leonard will provide housing. For St. Clare’s, the opening of 25 Leonard is effective direct action—propaganda by deed that will hopefully encourage others to do the same.

People wanting more information, to make donations, to have someone from St. Clare’s talk to their congregation, community group, union local, etc., contact us at:

138 Pears Ave. #801, Toronto, Ontario M5R 3K6 (416) 929-0397
info@stclares.ca
Charitable Number: 87305-8192

Thoughts on Means and Ends

What follows are my notes for a presentation/discussion on Direct Action: Means and Ends. The other person presenting was Ann Hansen, the author of Direct Action. Both of us were involved in the opposition to the cruise missile in the 1980s. This presentation took place in May, 2002.

There was an excellent discussion following our presentation. Explorations of violent and non-violent struggle and resistance is important. OPIRG McMaster deserves credit for having putting this event together.

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MEANS AND ENDS—Litton and Beyond

The Cruise Missile Conversion Project predated the Alliance for Non-violent Action. It was one of the groups that came together to form The Great Lakes Coalition Against the Cruise, which ultimately became ANVA. This is important to remember, I think, because before there was an international direct action network re-established, people were working on common concerns with a common understanding of the value of direct action, non-violence and grassroots organization.

CMCP’s focus for its decade+ struggle was not solely to stop the development of the inertial guidance system at Litton Industries. Rather, it wanted the factory to be converted to peaceful production. This campaign involved a wide range of efforts, from establishing a trust fund to support workers who as a matter of conscience quit working for Litton, stock-holder actions, vigils, petitions, marches, assisting in union organising drives, symbolic resistance and direct action. Symbolic resistance included occupying the employment offices of Litton and pouring blood on the building or roadways leading up to Litton. Direct Action involved stopping the actual production process by making it impossible for anyone to enter or leave the property—the specific objective of the mass actions at Litton Industries.

People, as a result of participating in these efforts were assaulted by police, jailed, had punitive restrictions on association levied against them, were fired from their jobs, were labelled terrorists (even before the Direct Action bombing) and treated with a mixture of admiration and contempt by the established peace movement.

After the bombing our homes and offices were raided, our phones were tapped, we were followed, kidnapped by police, our friends and families were subjected to harassment, many allies of CMCP stopped supporting its efforts believing that it was inappropriate after an act of terrorism to continue the campaign, intimidating charges were laid and the police and crown worked hard to convince the courts and politicians that non-violent direct action was indeed terrorist. The discovery of a file of minutes of The Direct Action Collective of CMCP was seriously claimed to be evidence of a link between Direct Action and the peace movement.

The period covered in Ann Hansen’s book Direct Action was an interesting and exciting period. It really was a time when revolution was openly talked about. Around the world, from Nicaragua to South Africa, there were struggles that both advocates of non-violence and supporters of armed resistance were drawing hope and inspiration from. The World Council of Churches was actively supporting resistance throughout Africa and Latin America. Liberation Theology was a dynamic impetus for social change. Anarchist and feminist methods of organization were being tested and found to work even in the midst of massive actions and police oppression at places like Seabrook and Livermore.

Since we were, or felt we were, in potentially revolutionary times, means and ends were not merely a theoretically discussion. Involvement in radical social change efforts that are successfully is not focused merely on the here and now but on the long term. And the stream of social change I was drawn to did feel very strongly that our efforts and actions had to actually contain within them the seeds of the new society we were trying to bring to birth. That does restrain the range of options for resistance. We can not, with this ideal in mind, ultimately take actions that reflect the world and views we oppose.

This was very clear with the CMCP campaign. It was not about stopping the production of one component of one weapon’s system. It was about changing the very essence of militaristic, capitalist production. It was about transformation and conversion of resources used for destruction to use for life enhancing purposes. And tactics that were used and considered had to take this very seriously. Twice a week for over a decade, for example, workers at Litton Industries were greeted by individuals handing out leaflets to them explaining the nature of the campaign, raising options, asking for questions and feedback—in short, treating our opponents with respect while persistently stating an opposition to the system they were a part of. Local churches, community organizations, business associations and others were contacted and speakers were made available to explain why we thought
conversion was a good thing. Mainstream political efforts were undertaken to try and make the issue of military production and Canadian taxpayer’s subsidization of militarism a matter of public debate. Through symbolic efforts, such as the church leaders who undertook a Lenten Vigil outside the gates of Litton, alternative visions were expressed. And through effective, non-violent blockades production was brought to a halt on at least two occasions—showing both that there was wide opposition to production of components of the air launched cruise missiles and that such production could only occur with our silent complicity. Publications dealing with issues such as the economics of conversion were developed and circulated. It was an encompassing, diverse and decentralized campaign—with a structure of working groups, working by consensus; affinity groups; larger gatherings both local and regional that again worked by consensus to come to a common understanding of the goals, tactics, strategies and objectives of the project. It was an effort in the here and now to practice and develop with the ideals of revolutionary community integrated with a focused initiative.

And then, in the midst of this work, a bomb went off and our world changed. My minor involvement with non-violence was seen by the police as the equivalent of terrorism. From notices of interception—required to be issued whenever a court ordered wire tape ends—to assaults in custody to being picked up off the street by police to dozens of harassing charges, the powers-that-be made it very clear that they ultimately make no distinction between non-violent direct action and any other expression of militant opposition.

Tangentially, we have watched the courts deal with various ploughshares initiatives in a very diverse fashion. Sometimes directly destroying methods of destruction results in severe jail time. On occasion, the same actions can result in an acquittal. This should, I think, be kept in mind when considering the legal consequences of any form of direct action. A slight shift in the political winds and my actions, instead of resulting in a few days in custody, could result in years in jail. This is happening in the U.S. and England and could easily happen here.

So this is in my mind when I think about means and ends.

It can’t be the law or the state that determines what is a right action, a right approach to revolutionary social change. It is ourselves. And because it is ourselves, individually and collectively, we have to be very careful in our approaches because the ramifications can be felt far beyond those participating in the actions. Our friends and families can become the target of social ostracism and police harassment, a minimal consequence. People can die. A maximum consequence. And while the former consequences can be lived through, understood and healed, the later can’t. And a movement that includes an acceptance of the death, of violence towards opponents, is ultimately a movement that reinforces the violence and injustices a truly revolutionary effort wishes to overcome.

And I do think that the use of violence in political struggle is not a sign of hope but a sign ultimately of despair. Non-violence is rooted in both hope and life. If one has no confidence that people will change, that institutions will be transformed, that an evil can be halted, then tactics will be considered that would not otherwise be easily accepted. We then start to express, in many ways, the same demonising and focused anger that has been heard to justify bombing Iraq, the revenge war after September 11th, the attacks on the democratic socialist movements of Chile or the resistance struggles in South Africa or First Nations efforts in Canada. We recreate, in our resistance, the type of world we are opposed to. The leaders can then be changed, but the system continues.

Or we can, in our organising structures and tactics, practice in the current time the skills and values we ultimately want society to be based upon. If we want a world where violence is not a constant, we need to create bubbles of non-violence than can grow into spheres of non-violence. If we want a open and egalitarian social order, then our structures should express these values. We dissent openly, not conspiratorially. Our existence becomes a revolutionary expression even if the particular campaign does not ultimately produce a victory.

As a reminder, though, in the event that these sounds like a harsh critique
of Ann Hansen and the other participants in Direct Action—their actions have
caused much less harm than the components prepared at the Litton plant.
The air launched cruise missile was used in the Gulf War. Hospitals and
schools were destroyed by these missiles. They have been used in most
U.S. and Canadian military campaigns since then. Whatever violence
that came as a result of the Direct Action campaign does pale when compared
to the violence of the state. In the words ascribed to Mahatma Ghandi,
“Given the choice of picking up the gun or being a coward, of course you
pick up the gun.”

This does not mean, to me, that violence is a positive expression of dissent
any more than Ghandi was an advocate of armed resistance against the
English. But it does mean that there has to be acknowledgement of the
where the greater violence and power really lies.