Sentimentalising
War – Anzac Day
There has been a disturbing trend in recent
years to turn Anzac Day into a Ôholy day of obligationÕ. It is a day of
remembrance. And it should remain so. But the corporate media have joined
forces with the armed services to leave no stone unturned in their quest to
imprint the psychology of war onto the nationÕs soul. Indeed, many commentators
speak of the day as being a day which defines our national identity.
War is a dirty, violent and destructive
business. What is happening now around Anzac Day is that more and more young people in particular are being
conned into what appears to be an underlying assumption that war is OK, that
war is where real adulthood is gained, that war is inevitable sometimes, that
war is somehow ÔgloriousÕ. The propaganda is insidious but pervasive. Too many
seem unaware that this is a giant confidence trick perpetuated by politicians, the
military and the corporations who make money from war. Of course war produces
heroism and comradeship. But in essence it is a deadly virus in the soul of
humanity.
Last century was the bloodiest on record for war
and mass murder. Beside the millions of victims of the First and Second World
Wars, there were slaughterhouse side shows – I million Armenians killed
in 1915, 6 million Jews and 5 million Poles, gypsies, gays and others killed by
the Nazis, 250,000 Japanese in four days, 3 million Ibos in Nigeria, 3 million Bengalis
in Pakistan, 3 million Cambodians by the Pol Pot
regime, 800,000 in 100 days in Rwanda, and millions more in Vietnam, Laos,
Kosovo, the Balkans, Sudan and the Congo. Mostly it was genocide. Most were not
soldiers. They were noncombatants, innocent women and children caught up in the
evil that is war.
War should be obnoxious to any civilized person.
But it is not. This is partly because it is sentimentalized and packaged to not
be. And we donÕt know the victims. Yet each of the 60 million civilian victims
who died last century was someoneÕs brother, sister, aunt, mother, father or friend.
Tell them it is ÔgloriousÕ!
With war being presented now in the sanitized
armchair comfort of our living rooms and often waged by high-tech weapons like pilotless
drones, it is easy to sentimentalise its deadly effects.
This is where Anzac commemorations can give a twisted message.
For Christians, there can be little excuse for
such sentimentality. The nonviolent Jesus, who blessed peacemakers and told us Ôto
love our enemies, not hate themÕ, left clear teachings about violence and war.
His last words to his followers before his arrest were, Ôput away the sword.Õ His
last action as a free man: to heal the ear of the wounded guard.
If only the Church and the world had taken that
command seriously. They still can.