I am intrigued with the notion of a “palliative”—in the sense of a treatment that masks the symptoms but does not address the disease. A palliative is not always a bad thing. For a cancer patient who is dying, morphine is a palliative, and a very helpful one. But sometimes palliatives are a bad thing, if they prevent treatment or some other healing response that could be curative. And in addictive processes, such as alcoholism, the palliative becomes the problem. That is, alcohol is consumed to in order to make the alcoholic feel better. But the very process of drinking causes physical, psychological and social problems that cause the alcoholic to—appropriately—feel bad. It would be best if the alcoholic stayed with these feelings long enough and with enough insight to decide to change his or her life. Instead, the alcoholic imbibes more alcohol, in order to feel better: “If you had my life, you’d drink too!” And the downward spiral continues. There are lots of such spirals. Violence in the Middle East, in Northern Ireland, in the Congo. Each side resorts to force in order to “finally” quell the objectionable behavior of the other side. But of course the violence begets rage, resentment and despair on the other side—and often that other side takes new violent action. And this, in turn, seems to the first side to necessitate yet more force. And so on, and so on, a tit-for-tat for years on end. Some addictive spirals burn themselves out. In the worst cases alcoholics may kill themselves or others in car accidents, may destroy their lives and those of family members, and may finally wither away from brain or liver damage. About as dire as one can get, but the cycle stops, more or less. Of course family members will be affected, and unless they take steps to heal themselves, further destructive cycles may develop. In the best cases, alcoholics may “hit bottom” and finally recognize that there is no way forward with alcohol. They “surrender” in the sense of ceasing to try to hold together the world view—including alcohol—that they have been living. They may then be receptive to participating in a community such as AA, where they can get help. Modern, limited wars and uprisings, unfortunately, are much less likely to burn themselves out. This is because the participants usually get outside aid to continue their fighting. As a result, wars can continue for generations, as long as the funding and arms and moral support continues. The Irish Republican Army was supported from fundraising in the United States and other countries with Irish expatriates—and the Loyalists by allies in England—as well as by the British government by way of the occupying force. Palestinians are supported by allies in Arab nations, and Israel by allies mainly in the United States. The African conflicts in the Congo—currently building to genocide status—are supported by neighboring nations, and funded by sales of diamond, gold and oil on the world markets. And then there is the industry that makes the arms—that provides the weaponry to continue spiraling conflicts. These companies range from corporations making large, complex weapons systems in the United States, England, France and Belgium, to small arms companies operating in every corner of the world. Weapons are widely available to governments and insurgents alike, in a thriving and highly effective world market. New nations enter the market as buyers and sellers—for example South Africa currently has a major national program to develop its defense industry, in order to be able to sell to other nations in Africa. I do not believe that all military action is wrong, or leads to spirals of violence. Obviously military intervention can also lead to quelling of violence, and to maintaining peace. But I believe the arms industry is in general unable to distinguish between virtuous and vicious cycles—as are most of the rest of us. Thus in many cases it is a fact that industries and the countries that host them—from the United States to South Africa—become contributors to cycles of violence. And on a more macro scale, national economies built on military businesses develop an economic interest in the continuation of at least some level of conflict in the world. From a total world system point of view, this is problematic, because such nations may wittingly or unwittingly block steps to true peace. What to do about this? First, admit that often conflicts are continued not because of local issues and misunderstandings or conflicting interests, but because third parties are more interested in helping to continue that conflict than in allowing their proxies to hit bottom and finally search for creative solutions. A start would be being very clear, in news coverage, in policy discussions, about who is funding what nations and conflicts, and at what level. Become transparent about the money. In addition, identify the companies that profit from these conflicts, and that nations whose economies are dependent on these companies. Start with identifying US companies. Link companies and arms programs to specific conflicts, so that we can understand the “conflict profile” of firms and countries. During the run-up to the Iraq war, much was made of France’s dealings with Iraq. But what about the United States? The US government itself admits that it provided Iraq with much of the technology for its supposed weapons of mass destruction, when the US was supplying the Iraqis during their war with Iran. Al Queda itself was funded by the CIA as a way of destabilizing Soviet control of Afghanistan. Most of us know a few of these telling anecdotes, but nowhere can we see the full topology, in historical perspective, of who supports what combatants. And my hope would be that when we had such a historical mapping, we would begin to become more sensitive to current funding and arming that may create future problems. And we might make wiser choices about where to arm, and where to insist on mediation, and where to take preemptive action to address underlying issues—such as poverty, racism, sexism, oppression and authoritarianism—before they lead to conflict. From a systems point of view, we waste a lot of time on arguments about who is right and who is wrong in these conflicts. Sometimes there is equivalent “truth” on both sides, and sometimes one side may clearly be “right” in some sense. But after a few cycles, the reality that matters is the spiral, not how it started. With each new child killed, a community of parents and relatives will feel justified to seek justice or revenge. This alone will be “reason enough” for some to take a life on the other side, and contribute to another round of the spiral. I don’t think we can stop these spirals by seeking mutual understanding and dialogue among the combatants, unless we also take away—or make strongly conditional—the third party contributions that enable the spirals to be maintained. There is an interesting model for this in the alcoholism treatment world. The process is called “intervention.” In this process, the supporters of the alcoholic–his or her family and friends and employer, for example, become organized as a group. They commit to stopping being ”enablers” of the drinker’s alcoholic life style. They then meet together with the alcoholic, and each member of the group in turn points out a specific problem that the alcoholic spiral is causing for the drinker, and then says, “I insist that you get treatment, and I will be here for you in the process.” Specific, concrete treatment options are offered to the alcoholic at the meeting, and he or she usually accepts one of them. The effect on the alcoholic is pychologically devastating–the group makes clear that his or her current world view and lifestyle cannot be maintained. They will no longer maintain it. The good news is that this psychological devastation is in service of his or her facing reality, and healing. Perhaps we need peace conferences of third party funders and arms merchants, not of combatants. These enablers may be able to recognize the destruction they are fomenting, and become committed together to an “intervention” that says to the combatants that the game is over, and the only way forward is creative, peaceful forgiveness and collaboration. By the way, my friend Ron Rubin tells me that there are now 192 nations with 150 armies. This number does not count insurgent organizations. This define a big, growing, and diverse “market” for funding and weapons, with lots of opportunity for trouble, spirals, and also perhaps for positive interventions. But we need some sort of system for setting up the interventions–for recognizing which third parties should be contacted, for motivating them to participate, and for carrying out the process.
Addictive spirals, war and third party support for war
June 16th, 2003 · No Comments
Tags: jimStories




