I know a man who peddles peace. It isn't easy. You'd think it would be, wouldn't you? Peace is something that everyone wants, isn't it? Peace in which to pursue a living, raise a family, improve conditions for oneself, one's family, one's tribe, one's nation. But no one wants to pay the price of peace. Not that it costs much -- peace is pretty cheap. It requires little or no money, and more than pays for itself in savings on arms budgets and the support for a standing army. But it costs pride, and it costs independence. To achieve peace, nations must give up weapons, armies, and work together to negotiate differences, to live and let live. This is something that nations seem loathe to do. This man trafficks in arms. He carries his traveling case around the world. He meets leaders, elected or not, diplomats, politicians, businessmen, citizens. He heaves the case onto the table between them, displaying the benefits of buying his product: more and healthier citizens doing productive work, solving problems, inventing things, smiling, raising children, quarrelling, reconciling, making art, skipping work, living. Everyone likes what they see. But, then he tells them the price -- put your weapons into the case, and they will be turned into ploughshares. Suddenly, the customer isn't interested. Suddenly, peace seems tawdry and dull compared to glittering swords and missiles, the command of thousands of armed men, the power of forcing one's will on one's neighbour. The customers sneer at the naivete that thinks to exchange an eagle on the wrist for a chicken in the pot. Sometimes, the Merchant makes a sale. It isn't usually much -- a ceasefire here, a truce there, an agreement in principle , a small limitation on arms trafficking, an inexpensive international protocol or UN resolution. Rarely, it will be something a little bigger: a whole treaty, an international agreement, a ban on some nightmare technology, weapons in the case -- ploughshares out. It doesn't happen often, but it helps. It prevents some minor conflict, limits damage, perhaps saves a life or two. It makes the long days, the travel, the empty nights worth something. Then, there is Head Office. Head Office wants quantifiable results, measurable achievements that will generate press releases that make Head Office look good. Head Office, like head offices everywhere, is run by bean counters. Head Office likes big sales: universal bans, wars ended, chemicals destroyed. international protocols, small limitations, UN resolutions, short ceasefires just don't measure up. How does one count lives not lost? A small limitation on arms traffic is a few weapons not sold to someone who would have used them, a three-day truce is three days in which lives are not lost. A UN resolution is a reminder to every nation that killing is an evil. An agreement in principle is a weapon of its own, to be used in the next argument for the next step in seeking peace. The Merchant, like all peddlars, is caught between reluctant buyers and demanding bosses. The powerful think him naive, the powerless think him the tool of the rich, the rich see him as a threat to their wealth. Nonetheless, he perseveres. Because the Merchant knows something the rich and powerful do not, something Head Office forgets. He knows that life -- every life -- is a sacred thing, sacred to the one living it. He might believe in a god, or not, but he believes, profoundly and completely, in life, every life, one life at a time. He knows that it is an uphill battle: he knows that humanity is proud, and foolish, that time is short and death is long. So, deep in the night, he tots up the lives not lost, and early in the day, rises and starts his endless round of client calls, meeting the obdurate, the obstinate, the proud, and the scornful, making his pitch, following up, booking the sales, no matter how small, calling home when he gets the chance. Think of him, the next time you read the war coverage in your newspaper. Lives lost, or lives gained? Which do you prefer? Think of him, the next time your national leader refuses to sign this or that agreement. Lives lost, or lives gained? Which do you prefer? Think of him, the next time you speak to a friend, a lover, a child. Lives lost, or lives gained? Which do you prefer? Think of him when you wake in the morning, and when you go to bed at night. Lives lost, or lives gained? Which do you prefer?
|
||||
