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"I'm
eighteen with a bullet," goes a popular song from the mid-1970s.
"Got my finger on the trigger, I wanna pull it." A decade
or so before that, John Lennon made a song out of a cover line he
found on a glossy American magazine dedicated to weapons: "Happiness
is a warm gun." He later became one of the best known victims
of the very culture of violence he had sought to satirise. And Johnny
Cash, who died earlier this year of natural causes, used to sing
about how "I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die."
Ample testimony to the fact that America's obsession with
guns has soaked through its cultural and social fabric. Poverty
and disease are big killers on a global scale. Violence, however,
is an even bigger killer. And in a majority of cases it is perpetrated
via weapons. Not nuclear missiles or bombs but handguns, automatic
rifles, grenades, landmines and the like.
In
calling some years ago for measures to restrict the proliferation
of small arms, United Nations Secretary-General Kofi Annan described
them as weapons of mass destruction. The description is hard to
quarrel with, given that conventional weapons have, over the years,
wreaked far more havoc than nuclear, chemical or biological devices.
Yet it is generally only the latter whose spread is frowned upon
(chiefly by those who own them in large quantities), whereas small
arms can freely be manufactured and traded.
These are among the points made by Shattered Lives, a recent
report put together by Amnesty International and Oxfam, that calls
for a concerted effort at all levels for effective arms control.
"Small
arms," it says, "are present in every country of the world.
They are used in every single conflict - and used exclusively in
most. They play a key role in perpetrating abuses of international
human rights and humanitarian law... More injuries, deaths, displacements,
rapes, kidnappings and acts of torture are inflicted or perpetrated
with small arms than with any other type of weapon."
The statistics it cites are truly horrific, putting the number
of small arms in the world at 639 million - with 60 per cent of
them in civilian hands. In Pakistan, according to the report, there
is one gun for every 5.8 people - which, not surprisingly, is well
above the international average.
As an urban phenomenon, the ubiquity of firearms is a relatively
recent development in Pakistan. During the early 1980s, General
Zia-ul-Haq's repeated denials that Pakistan was serving as a conduit
for the flow of arms to the Afghan mujahideen, were widely considered
to be among the General's more blatant lies. But in retrospect they
seem more like half-truths, given that a significant proportion
of the weapons intended for the noble freedom fighters (who, in
time, spawned the Taliban as well as Al-Qaeda) ended up on the Pakistani
black market. And a number of generals suddenly became very rich,
although perhaps not quite as rich as those who concentrated on
the heroin trade.
Quite
a few of these weapons, interestingly enough, were replicas of Russian
small arms (notably the Kalashnikov) manufactured in Israel and
paid for with Saudi money. During roughly the same period, when
the US wished surreptitiously to assist another unscrupulous bunch
of bandits to bring down the Sandinista government in Nicaragua,
it did so partly through the circuitous route of selling Israeli
weapons to Israel and channelling the proceeds to the Contras. This,
mind you, was at a time when Iran was locked in a war against Iraq
- and the US was militarily assisting Saddam Hussein as well.
These examples show just how convoluted the arms trade can
get in tricky circumstances. The mujahideen could not be supplied
directly by the US, because that would prematurely have laid bare
the nature of the superpower contest over Afghanistan. The Iran-Contra
rigmarole, on the other hand, was necessitated by Congressional
strictures against military assistance to the Nicaraguan insurgents.
More generally, however, the trade is conducted far more
openly, and Shattered Lives emphasises the fact that the UN Security
Council's permanent members are by far the world's largest arms
exporters. They are not terribly particular, says the report, about
whom they sell weapons to, adding that supplies to regimes and forces
with a reputation for repressive behaviour have risen dramatically
in the wake of September 11. It may be unreasonable to lump Pakistan
with the worst offenders in that category, but the report notes
that security assistance and related assistance soared from 3.5
million dollars to 1.3 billion dollars after Islamabad signed up
to join the so-called war on terror. The US has also been eager
to "cooperate" with military agencies in countries such
as the Philippines and Indonesia, where the armed forces have an
even worse reputation for human rights abuses.
Perhaps one of the most poignant examples of a nation being
devastated by a weapons overload can be found in Angola, where the
so-called resistance force, Unita, received a steady stream of supplies
from the US, China, apartheid South Africa and Israel for more than
two decades, while the government was armed by the Soviet Union
and supported by Cuba. The confrontation, following Angola's liberation
from Portuguese colonial rule in 1975, took place very much in the
context of the Cold War (much like the conflicts in Afghanistan
and Nicaragua), but it outlasted that particular confrontation -
not least because the ready availability of small arms encouraged
the prolongation of territorial tussles. Needless to say, it was
Angolan villagers, caught in the middle, who suffered the most.
A similar situation arose in Cambodia, where Vietnam's 1979
invasion put an end to the murderous rule of Pol Pot. Yet the US
and some of its Western allies put aside ideological considerations
to supply and train the indubitably genocidal Khmer Rouge forces.
The Amnesty-Oxfam report cites Cambodia as an example of a country
where a peace settlement does not add up to much simply because
the process isn't accompanied by a determined effort to remove weapons
from the equation.
Beyond the Cold War, the supply of weapons to combatants
has been motivated chiefly by the mundane profit motive; the ongoing
sporadic warfare in countries such as the Congo and Sierra Leone
bears testimony to this fact. "When challenged on their failure
to prevent irresponsible arms transfers," the report says,
"some governments have openly employed the morally flawed argument:
"If we don't sell it to them, someone else will." When
Tony Blair was asked why the UK was selling British parts for F16
aircraft for onward sale to Israel, when there had been clear evidence
that these weapons were being used directly against civilians, he
replied: "What would actually happen if we [refused to sell
parts] is not that the parts wouldn't be supplied, [it] is that
you would find every other defence industry in the world rushing
in to take the place that we have vacated." Even if this were
true, it would not be morally right: it is never right or good policy
to sell arms to those who use them to commit atrocities.
Amnesty
International and Oxfam propose a multi-pronged approach to tackling
this menace. At the international level, the first step would obviously
be agreements against supplying weapons to any regime or agency
that could be suspected of using them for purposes incompatible
with human rights. Then, national governments must endeavour to
ensure that their weapons are not misused, and don't fall into the
wrong hands. At the same time, local communities are called upon
to undertake to rid themselves of offensive weapons.
It's a tall order, but the report suggests that it isn't
a hopeless cause, citing the movement against landmines as an example
of a partly successful campaign. But then, landmines tend to be
used mostly by established regimes, whereas handguns of every shape
and size are available, not only to formally instituted armed forces,
but also to criminal organisations and individuals.
But although it's hard
to imagine circumstances in which the menace can be eliminated,
there are various ways of dealing with it. International agreements
could prove hard to police and relatively simple to violate, but
they would nonetheless be a worthy beginning. Strictures against
the supply of arms to groups associated with human rights violations
would also be a significant step forward, provided they are implemented
uncontroversially. The community aspect of the solution could prove
to be the most effective one: the ostracising of those who wield
or threaten to use firearms.
However, the degree of coordination required to pull off a disarming
miracle severely diminishes the likelihood of it taking place in
the foreseeable future. Besides, any attempt to rid society of weapons
cannot possibly succeed while they are used with impunity by official
or semi-autonomous armed groups.
Shattered Lives accepts that "arms have a legitimate role"
in societies and "can also play a specific role in international
peacekeeping or peace-building operations." It does not approve,
naturally, of societies where the possession of arms enjoys legal
protection - such as the US, where a constitutional provision introduced
in revolutionary times has been retained throughout the twentieth
century, despite the obvious dangers that flow from it, because
the lobby of manufacturers and habitual users (as demonstrated in
Michael Moore's Oscar-winning documentary 'Bowling For Columbine')
has grown too powerful for most American politicians to contend
with.
In the event, it makes sense to sign off with verses from a quintessentially
American response to 9/11. Drummed up last year by the octogenarian
folk singer Pete Seeger as a tribute to Martin Luther King Jr.,
the chorus of the children's song goes: "Don't say it can't
be done, The battle's just begun, Take it from Dr King, You too
can learn to sing. So drop the gun..."
To which all one can add is: Amen.
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