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Title: Christian Nonviolence
Author: Tom Cornell
Date: December 22, 2017
Language: en
Topics: christianity, pacifism, non-violence, religion, The Catholic Worker
Source: Retrieved on 3rd August 2022 from https://www.lacatholicworker.org/2017/12/22/christian-nonviolence-theory-and-practice/
Notes: Tom Cornell is a longtime editor of The Catholic Worker newspaper and former co-founder of the Catholic Peace Fellowship. In a slightly different form his essay was published in the December 2017 issue of The Catholic Worker. With Jim Forest and Robert Ellsberg, he co-edited A Penny a Copy, an anthology of writings from The Catholic Worker.

Tom Cornell

Christian Nonviolence

“To me nonviolence is the all-important problem or virtue to be

nourished and studied and cultivated” (Dorothy Day, Diaries, Oct. 1968).

And Thomas Merton agreed: “You are right going along the lines of

satyagraha [Gandhi’s term for nonviolent action; literally the power of

truth]. I see no other way….” Merton held nonviolence to be essential.

Nonviolent action embodies a moral truth in response to a serious moral

crisis by way of protest and acts of resistance, including civil

disobedience, that do no harm, conducted in openness and truth with

willingness to pay the legal penalties. Nonviolent action may be acts of

witness only, but they may also lead to mass mobilization and real

change.

U.S. military troops had been engaged in the Vietnam civil war for five

years. Fifteen thousand of them had been killed when, on October 27,

1967, Father Philip Berrigan and three accomplices entered the Baltimore

Selective Service headquarters carrying a pitcher of blood. They opened

the file cabinets containing the records of men eligible for the

military draft and poured the blood over the files. The Baltimore Four,

as they came to be known, were convicted six months later on felony

charges. Days before they were to stand for sentencing, Philip Berrigan,

together with his brother (and fellow Catholic priest) Daniel and seven

others, raided the Selective Service offices in Catonsville, Maryland,

hauled hundreds of draft files out onto an adjacent parking lot and

incinerated them using homemade napalm, hardly a plea for leniency.

On hearing of the Berrigans’ action, we at the Catholic Worker house in

New York City were astounded by their escalation of tactics. Philip was

a dear friend–he had baptized my daughter the year before–and now I

admired his daring, wanting to believe that he had enlarged the

boundaries of nonviolent action. Not everyone was so enthusiastic.

Dorothy Day, the radical pacifist founder of the Catholic Worker, while

not criticizing the Berrigans publicly, remarked pointedly: “These acts

are not ours.” Property damage, in her view, was not part of the

nonviolent arsenal.

The Catonsville Nine, as they were called, received prison sentences of

two to six years. The Berrigan brothers and three others refused to

surrender and went underground. Dorothy considered this a major breach

of nonviolent principles. Consistent with Dorothy’s reservations, the

Catholic Worker newspaper remained largely silent about the Catonsville

action and the trial that followed, despite widespread coverage in the

mainstream media. (An article in June 1968 was the lone exception.) And

in the four decades that followed, we published virtually nothing on the

Berrigans and the Plowshares movement that, in 1980, they would help

launch. Then we gave over an entire issue to Dan Berrigan on his death.

For the past thirty years or so, Carmen Trotta and I have argued, no,

tried to reason together, about Plowshares. Is it genuinely nonviolent?

Is it just? Should we encourage, discourage? And, “What would Dorothy

say?” These acts may not be ours, but many of the people are, and so

many of them so transparently genuine, loving people, not least of them

Fr. Dan Berrigan, Greg Boertje-Obed, Michael Walli and Sr. Megan Rice.

The May 2014 issue of The Catholic Worker featured an eloquent tribute

to the Transform Now Plowshares, by Patrick O’Neil, entitled “Sr. Megan,

Mike & Greg, Thanks!” On July 2012, they had broken into the Y-12

National Security Complex in Oak Ridge, Tennessee, which houses the

world’s biggest supply of enriched, weapons-grade uranium. Cutting

through four perimeter fences, they reached the site’s Protected Area

unobserved, and hammered on the uranium storage structure, while pouring

human blood they had brought, and hung banners and crime-scene tape. The

action garnered international attention, largely because it exposed the

vulnerability of nuclear-weapons sites. So we have come to some kind of

terms with Plowshares. But what matters is nonviolence itself.

From the Christian point of view, weapons that are intended to kill the

innocent may surely be destroyed in justice. Justice may even demand it.

But is it nonviolence? Is it disarmament? Disarmament occurs when people

lay down their weapons, not when their weapons are taken from them. That

only moves belligerents to procure more and better weapons if they can.

When activists destroy weapons, do they effect any conversion or change

of heart in their opponents? Do they lead any to lay down their arms?

Are such actions what we need?

There are practical concerns as well. The secrecy involved in Plowshares

activities invites infiltration by spies and agents provocateurs.

Openness and truth must be laid aside. Secrecy breeds suspicion within

the group and creates a class system of those “in the know,” the

“serious,” and those who merely attend to chores or lend moral or

financial support. At trial, too often, it has come out that many “in

the know” were actually spies.

A nonviolent army has no cannon fodder. Many in the antinuclear movement

have literally put their lives on the line, risking being shot when they

entered restricted areas. When Sister Megan was asked about these risks

in an NPR interview, she answered that she was perfectly at peace with

the possibility of being killed. Straight to heaven for her, no sweat!

But how about the young security guard who might be obliged to shoot

her? What of his mental and spiritual health after that?

The basis of Christian nonviolence is the same premise that underlies

all of the Church’s social teaching: that every man, woman, and child is

created in the image and likeness of God. Persons are never a means to

an end; they are ends in themselves, and thus are not to be violated in

any way, either in body, mind, or spirit. Persons are not disconnected

individuals in a war of all against all, as in the capitalist model; nor

are they to be subsumed into a larger whole, as in the collectivist

model. Instead, all are formed in, by, and for community. Thus Pope John

XXIII, in his 1963 encyclical, Pacem in Terris, grounded his hope for

peace in human rights. But how to establish and protect human rights?

Most people throughout history have assumed this is only possible

through physical force. An ancient Latin adage goes, Si vis pacem, para

bellum–if you desire peace, prepare for war. That’s like saying, “If you

desire grapes, sow briars.” Christian peacemakers would rather say, Si

vis pacem, para pacem–if you desire peace, prepare for peace.

Christian discipleship will be judged by the criteria of the Last

Judgment: the works of mercy that Jesus describes in Matthew 15. War may

be judged by these same criteria, for the works of war are the exact

opposite of the works of mercy. Feed the hungry? No, destroy their

crops! Give drink to the thirsty? No, poison their wells! Shelter the

homeless? No, bomb their village! The weapons of Christian nonviolence

include the spiritual works of mercy; again, the works of war are the

exact opposite. Instruct the ignorant? No, lie to them! Counsel the

doubtful? No, draft them or imprison them! Console the bereaved? Give

them more deaths to grieve!

Forgive injuries? Not on your life! Make them pay, ten times over!

Authentic nonviolence must be revolutionary because the social,

political, economic order we live under violates the human person in

fundamental ways–body, mind, and spirit. The present order is more

accurately called disorder. It kills and maims the body by war and by

withholding the means to life from the poor. It violates human

intelligence because it thrives on lies–truth is always war’s first

casualty. And it violates the human conscience, which instinctively

shrinks in horror from killing our own. Lt. Col. Dave Grossman, a West

Point psychology professor pioneered the conditioning technique known as

killology to overcome our natural aversion to homicide, a prime task of

military training. Wars can be fought only by stilling the voice of

conscience. By contrast, nonviolence recognizes the humanity of the

opponent and appeals to “that of God in everyone,” as the Quakers put

it–that which the Creator breathed into our first parents and which we

all share, even the boss, the landlord, the racist, the oppressor, the

warmonger.

In struggle, the nonviolent activist does not seek victory but

reconciliation, the redemption of opponents, never their humiliation

much less their annihilation. Therefore, the nonviolent activist always

allows the opponent a way to retreat with dignity, an honorable way out

of any conflict. The principal weapon of nonviolence is dialogue.

Genuine dialogue assumes the good faith of partners and avoids invidious

language and ad hominem argument. Dialogue may be suspended at an

impasse, but resumption is always a goal. The nonviolent armory includes

protest, public dissent, noncooperation, and active resistance, but

always with the purpose of re-establishing dialogue. Civil disobedience

is the last weapon to be used, not the first, and should be undertaken

after careful discernment under spiritual direction.

Christian nonviolence is a way of life, not a tactic. Often adopting

nonviolence is part of a conversion process. The nonviolent activist is

a man or woman of spiritual discipline, who has peace within, for one

cannot give what one does not have. In order to practice Christian

nonviolence we have to prepare ourselves through study– nonviolence

doesn’t come naturally for most of us. Thomas Merton pointed to the

superficiality of much of what he saw coming out of the peace movement

of the 1960s. The years since have seen worse. We Christians need to

recover what our ancestors in the faith knew about peacemaking. And we

need a revolution of the heart. To purify our wills we need to pray. To

tame our lusts we need self-control, discipline, and fasting in one way

or another. Only then can we come to the study of nonviolence with the

realistic hope of putting it into useful practice. One need not be a

saint, but the intellectually slothful and the self-serving will not

make effective nonviolent practitioners. The way of nonviolence must

proceed person by person.

At this point, a reasonable objection confronts the pacifist. Jesus

counsels that I turn my own cheek, not my neighbor’s. Do we not have an

obligation to protect the innocent? Does it not happen sometimes that

the only effective way to protect the innocent is by force, even force

of arms? Is it not a crime that cries to heaven that the international

community did not intervene to stop the genocide in Rwanda and in Sudan?

Refusal to support military force in defense of the innocent for reasons

of conscience does not extricate anyone from this moral dilemma.

Advocates of nonviolence have pioneered peaceful ways to resist

aggression or home-grown tyranny. Religious groups such as Maryknoll and

the Quakers have long prepared for re-entry into conflict areas in Asia.

Other groups such as Christian Peacemaker Teams and Voices for Creative

Nonviolence have sent trained activists into conflict areas such as

Iraq, Afghanistan, Israel/Palestine, and Central and South America as

“accompaniment teams” to document abuses and to train others in the work

of resistance and reconciliation.

Another response, suggested by Gandhi, is to build up community,

creating “cells of good living” in a violent world. This is what

Catholic Worker groups, the Bruderhof, and other intentional communities

strive to do in ever increasing numbers. All the same, there is weight

to arguments for forceful intervention to protect the innocent. The

innocent do need protection, and the world as we know it does need a

police force. International police action is different from war. It is a

perversion that, in this country, the police are being militarized.

There has to be another way. Imagine solid ranks of Catholic

conscientious objectors heeding the call of Pope Paul VI at the United

Nations on October 4, 1965: “No more war, war never again!” His message

was echoed by Pope John Paul II when he addressed the youth of Ireland

at Drogheda in 1979: “On my knees I beg you to turn from the paths of

violence and return to the ways of peace…. Violence only delays the day

of justice. Violence destroys the work of justice…. Do not follow any

leaders who train you in the ways of inflicting death. Love life!

Respect life, in yourselves and in others. Give yourselves to the

service of life, not the service of death…. Violence is the enemy of

justice. Only peace can lead the way to true justice.”

The Catholic Church is becoming, if not a pacifist, then a peace church.

In his 1991 encyclical, Centesimus Annus, John Paul II again pleaded,

“No, never again war, which destroys the lives of innocent people,

teaches how to kill, throws into upheaval even the lives of those who do

the killing and leaves behind a trail of resentment and hatred, thus

making it all the more difficult to find a just solution of the very

problems that provoked the war.” And Pope Benedict XVI: “I would like to

call out to the consciences of those who form part of armed groups of

any kind. To each and every one, I say: Stop, reflect, and abandon the

path of violence!” (Angelus message, Jan. 1, 2010). And more: “It is

impossible to interpret Jesus as a violent person. Violence is contrary

to the kingdom of God; it is a tool of the Antichrist. Violence never

serves humanity, but dehumanizes” (Angelus message, Mar. 11, 2012). Let

us hear no more, “Yes, but….”

When war is outlawed, as it must be if humanity is to survive its

penchant for self-destruction, our progeny will look back on

justifications for war with the shame we do today on justifications for

slavery by Christian theologians a mere one hundred and fifty years ago.

If Christians are not in the vanguard of the war against war, if that is

left to nonbelievers, then we will have deserted the field, cowards

indeed, and other generations, if there be any, will have to restore the

credibility of the gospel of the Prince of Peace and the integrity of

his Church. Disarmament must be a top priority. Most people would agree

in principle–popes and presidents included–but there is no will to do

it. It’s been over fifty years since we had a broad-based disarmament

movement in the United States or the world. Meanwhile the nuclear threat

has only become more severe as nuclear weapons capability proliferates.

In the Catholic Church, a grassroots peace movement among the laity has

been growing–and not just among the usual suspects in the Catholic

Worker, Pax Christi, and Plowshares movements. Academic groups such as

the Kroc Institute at the University of Notre Dame are contributing too.

Merton again: “The duty of the Christian in this [present] crisis is to

strive with all his power and intelligence, with his faith, his hope in

Christ and love for God and man, to do the one task which God has

imposed upon us in the world today. That task is to work for the total

abolition of war” (The Catholic Worker, Oct. 1961).

So let us get to work. The first words I ever heard Dorothy Day speak,

sixty-four years ago: “There are great things that have to be done, and

who will do them but the young?” No cause is more noble or more

necessary. I’m old now; it’s your turn, young people. Pray and study,

then get out there!