Nobels Fredpris 2009

Som de fleste nå har fått med seg fikk USAs president Barack Obama Nobels fredspris for 2009. Dette kom overraskende på de fleste og har skapt en del debatt både i Norge og i resten av verden. Hva har egentlig Obama gjort for å fortjene denne prisen og hvorfor får han så raskt som snaut ni måneder etter at han tok over roret i det hvite hus? Etter hva jeg har fått med meg har tre hovedtyper kritikk dukket opp:

1. Obama har altfor kort fartstid til å få Nobels fredspris.

Denne kritikken har sitt opphav i oppfatningen om at prisen bør belønne lang og tro tjeneste. Tankene leder til typer som Jimmy Carter og Martti Ahtisaari som lenge hadde jobbet fred, og som fikk prisen noen år etter at det viktigste arbeidet var unnagjort. Denne tankegangen er logisk og ligger naturlig for de fleste. Men hva sier Alfred Nobels testamente egentlig om dette?

«The whole of my remaining realisable estate shall be disposed of in the following way: the capital, invested in safe securities by my executors, shall constitute a fund, the interest on which shall be annually awarded as prizes to those who, during the preceding year, shall have conferred the greatest benefit on mankind.»

Med andre ord skal prisen deles ut på grunnlag av hendelser i det foregående året. Obama har riktignok kun vært president i snaut tre fjerdedeler av perioden, men han arbeidet for  nedrustning allerede som senator. Her har Nobelkomitéen vært langt mer ute å sykle ved tidligere anledninger, for eksempelvis med de nevnte tildelingene til Carter og Ahtisaari. Årets tildeling er derfor interessant fordi den i denne sammenhengen følger Nobels testament, men bryter med presedenser som er satt senere.

2. Obama har ingen resultater å vise til.

Denne kritikken er en del mer tungtveiende etter min mening. Obama har ingen konkrete gjennombrudd å vise til siden han tiltrådde 20. januar i år. Vi tar en titt på Nobels testament igjen:

«…and one part to the person who shall have done the most or the best work for fraternity between the nations and the abolition or reduction of standing armies and the formation and spreading of peace congresses.»

Nobelkomitéen har gjennom årenes løp utvidet fredsprisens omfanget betraktelig opp i gjennom årene. I dag vil ingen protestere mot en prisvinner som har jobbet for menneskerettigheter (i dag har vi faktisk sett flere som har etterlyst en slik vinner, som for eksempel Erna Solberg), men som vi ser dekkes ikke dette området av Nobels testament. Her er uansett det store spørsmålet om prisen kan gis for arbeid som ikke har gitt noe konkret resultat eller ikke. Et annet problem er hvordan man skal måle resultater. Det eksisterer en uklar presedens på dette området, selv om de fleste prisvinnerne har minst et konkret resultat å vise til, finnes det flere eksempler på det motsatte. I 2000 fikk den nå avdøde sør-koreanske presidenten Kim Dae Jung for sin solskinnspolitikk overfor Nord-Korea, en politikk som omtrent ikke har fått noen permanent virkning mellom de to landene. Aung San Suu Kyi fikk prisen i 1991 for sitt arbeid for menneskerettigheter og demokrati i Myanmar, som de fleste vet er dette landet fortsatt et svært undertrykkende diktatur. Og Carl von Ossietzky, som vant prisen i 1935, hadde vanskelige kår som pasifist i Nazi-Tyskland i mellomkrigstiden. Få vil i dag betvile deres innsats, heltemot og oppriktige ønske om å skape en bedre verden, men ingen av dem har noe konkrete resultater å vise til.

Over til Obamas arbeid. Hva har han egentlig gjort? Som nevnt involverte han seg i nedrustningsarbeid før han ble president, en linje han har fortsatt etter valgseieren. Den 5. april i år holdt han en tale i Praha i Tsjekkia om sin visjon for fremtiden:

So today, I state clearly and with conviction America’s commitment to seek the peace and security of a world without nuclear weapons.

Dette var et budskap han gjentok den 23. september i en tale til generalforsamlingen i FN. I tillegg holdt han en tale i Kairo i Egypt i et forsøk på å skape forsoning mellom den muslimske verden og vesten. Han har med andre ord forsøkt å skape ny giv i arbeidet for å begrense antallet atomvåpen i tillegg til å redusere spenningene i forholdet til den muslimske verden som ble forsterket av hans forgjenger. Problemet til Obama er at mange krever mer av ham på grunn av hans stilling som verdens mektigste mann. Mens de fortjente prisene i 1962, 1975, 1982, 1995 gikk til aktører som arbeidet for atomnedrustning, krever man at Obama i kraft av sin posisjon skal knipse med fingrene og få det hele overstått. I mine øyne blir det å operere med ulike standarder for hva som trengs for å få anerkjennelse, noe jeg ikke ser noen god grunn til.

3. Obama arbeider ikke for fred.

Flere har i løpet av dagen påpekt at Obama er en president i et land som okkuperer et land og fører krig i et annet, og hvor det er snakk om kraftig opptrapping av militær tilstedeværelse i det sistnevnte. Dette føyer seg inn i en større pasifisme-debatt om det er produktivt og ønskelig å benytte seg av militære virkemidler for å skape en bedre verden. Dette kan det skrives bøker om, så jeg kommer ikke til å diskutere dette noe særlig i dybden. Det er imidlertid en fullt forståelig og legitim kritikk av årets utdeling, selv om jeg vil hevde at det faktum at Obama har arvet begge disse konfliktene fra sin forgjenger og gjør sitt beste for å avslutte begge teller i hans fordel.

Summa summarum…

På bakgrunn av dette synes jeg prisen har god ryggdekning basert på Alfred Nobels testament og presedensen skapt av tidligere utdelinger.  Imidlertid stusser jeg på hvorfor komitéen stresser så mye med å gi prisen til ham nå. Dette er en mann som har gjort unna snaut ni måneder av minimum 48, kanskje 96 måneder av sitt embete. Mye kan endre seg på denne tiden, og det hadde vært enklere å felle en dom i ettertid enn underveis. Årets pris er imidlertid nok et bevis på at Nobel-komitéen ønsker å styre utviklingen i fredsarbeidet så vel som å belønne det i ettertid, noe de har gjort klart i sin begrunnelse. En slik politisering kan skade prisen, men den kan også gjøre den mer relevant, noe blant annet Jan Egeland og Elin Ørjasæter påpeker.

Årets pris er spennende og engasjerende, men personlig ville jeg ha ventet i noen år før jeg ville ha vurdert Barack Obama.

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4 kommentar to “Nobels Fredpris 2009”

  1. Runar Says:

    Fred handler ikke bare om å få ledere til å signere fredsavtaler, men også om å få befolkningen til å få et håp om fred/en bedre fremtid. Denne prisen kan være med å bidra til akkurat dette. Et viktig moment som jeg føler ikke har kommet mye fram i mediadekningen. Man vil få en mer reell og langvarig fred ved at hele folkegrupper igjen får trua på at fremtiden kan bli bedre. Slik sett kan bare «halleluja-bølgen» gjerne svope over kloden for min del. Bare mannen ikke opparbeider seg et mega ego nå da.

    Spennende å se hva som skjer. Enten kan det vise seg å være en av de riktigste prisene noen gang, eller et fatalt mageplask. Min skepsis knytter seg mest til det og gjøre prisen til en gjenstand av Hazzard-spill.

  2. Öyvind Says:

    Ifra Greg Mankiw’s Blog:

    First-Year Grad Student Wins Nobel Prize in Economics!

    LONDON — The surprise choice of first-year grad student Quintus Pfuffnick for the Nobel Prize in Economics drew praise from much of the world Friday even as many pointed out the youthful economist has not yet published anything in scholarly journals.

    The new PhD candidate was hailed for his willingness to tackle difficult problems, his commitment to improving the economic system, and his goal of bringing efficiency and equality into harmony.

    Professor Paul Krugman of Princeton, who won the prize in 2008, said Pfuffnick’s award shows great things are expected from him in the coming years.

    «In a way, it’s an award coming near the beginning of the first year in grad school of a relatively young economist that anticipates an even greater contribution towards making our economy a better place for all,» he said. «It is an award that speaks to the promise of Mr Pfuffnick’s message of hope.»

    He said the prize is a «wonderful recognition of Pfuffnick’s essay in his grad school application.»

    Tror ikke det hadde skadet à vente litt.. Det kan virke som utdelingen baerer preg av heltestatus, pr og hastverk.

  3. Runar Says:

    Fra: http://www.nytimes.com

    YOUR Majesties, Your Royal Highnesses, Excellencies, honorable members of the Norwegian Nobel Committee, ladies and gentlemen —

    This is awkward. This is really awkward. Wow.

    You know, two months ago, when Thorbjorn Jagland announced that I had been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, I said that I was “humbled.” Today I have several other words: “Baffled.” “Incredulous.” “Slightly-very-irritated.”

    But ultimately, conventional adjectives fail to convey the powerful rush of emotions one experiences at receiving such a surprising and politically tone-deaf honor. And so I have invented a new word: it’s called “thorbjorn.” As in, “Wow, those Scandinavians completely thorbjorned my hard-earned political capital.” I know, it’s not the best name. In fact, I had hoped that Philip Roth would help me out on this one, but for some reason he couldn’t make it.

    And so, ladies and gentlemen, I am humbled, humbled and thorbjorned to be here. I am reminded of another great day in my life — July 14 — when I had the distinction of throwing out the first pitch at the All-Star Game. Who could have guessed that three months later, I would be awarded the American League Cy Young award? That’s a joke, ladies and gentlemen. Seriously, it was just one pitch.

    Of course, I do not want to seem ungrateful. I love Oslo. It has been a pleasure to explore this wonderful country. Why, just yesterday, my daughter Sasha had a chance to pet a reindeer. Twelve minutes later, she was awarded the Nobel Prize in Zoology. Sorry, ladies and gentlemen, sorry! Another joke. I know that’s not a category.

    But, seriously, I have to say that nothing in this amazing country has impressed me more than your majestic fjords. Tall, peaceful and silent, they represent everything that we like best about the Scandinavian people.

    Particularly the silence. After all, why would a fjord meddle in geopolitics, let alone potentially undermine an ambitious but still-fragile legislative agenda for the sake of a hollow liberal gesture? It’s just a fjord! And let’s face it: nobody cares what a fjord thinks.

    And so, Your Majesties, ladies and gentlemen, I thank you for this unexpected honor. But at the same time, I ask that in the future the committee might take certain steps to avert unnecessary thorbjorning. For instance, maybe you could ask. See, that way, we could have talked this out.

    Regardless, in the spirit of Alfred Nobel, I salute the committee for igniting this fuse of friendship, and hope — for everyone’s sake — that this thing doesn’t blow up in all of our faces.

  4. Are Says:

    Your Majesties, Your Royal Highnesses, Distinguished Members of the Norwegian Nobel Committee, citizens of America, and citizens of the world:

    I receive this honor with deep gratitude and great humility. It is an award that speaks to our highest aspirations – that for all the cruelty and hardship of our world, we are not mere prisoners of fate. Our actions matter, and can bend history in the direction of justice.

    And yet I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge the considerable controversy that your generous decision has generated. In part, this is because I am at the beginning, and not the end, of my labors on the world stage. Compared to some of the giants of history who have received this prize – Schweitzer and King; Marshall and Mandela – my accomplishments are slight. And then there are the men and women around the world who have been jailed and beaten in the pursuit of justice; those who toil in humanitarian organizations to relieve suffering; the unrecognized millions whose quiet acts of courage and compassion inspire even the most hardened of cynics. I cannot argue with those who find these men and women – some known, some obscure to all but those they help – to be far more deserving of this honor than I.

    But perhaps the most profound issue surrounding my receipt of this prize is the fact that I am the Commander-in-Chief of a nation in the midst of two wars. One of these wars is winding down. The other is a conflict that America did not seek; one in which we are joined by forty three other countries – including Norway – in an effort to defend ourselves and all nations from further attacks.

    Still, we are at war, and I am responsible for the deployment of thousands of young Americans to battle in a distant land. Some will kill. Some will be killed. And so I come here with an acute sense of the cost of armed conflict – filled with difficult questions about the relationship between war and peace, and our effort to replace one with the other.

    These questions are not new. War, in one form or another, appeared with the first man. At the dawn of history, its morality was not questioned; it was simply a fact, like drought or disease – the manner in which tribes and then civilizations sought power and settled their differences.

    Over time, as codes of law sought to control violence within groups, so did philosophers, clerics, and statesmen seek to regulate the destructive power of war. The concept of a «just war» emerged, suggesting that war is justified only when it meets certain preconditions: if it is waged as a last resort or in self-defense; if the forced used is proportional, and if, whenever possible, civilians are spared from violence.

    For most of history, this concept of just war was rarely observed. The capacity of human beings to think up new ways to kill one another proved inexhaustible, as did our capacity to exempt from mercy those who look different or pray to a different God. Wars between armies gave way to wars between nations – total wars in which the distinction between combatant and civilian became blurred. In the span of thirty years, such carnage would twice engulf this continent. And while it is hard to conceive of a cause more just than the defeat of the Third Reich and the Axis powers, World War II was a conflict in which the total number of civilians who died exceeded the number of soldiers who perished.

    In the wake of such destruction, and with the advent of the nuclear age, it became clear to victor and vanquished alike that the world needed institutions to prevent another World War. And so, a quarter century after the United States Senate rejected the League of Nations – an idea for which Woodrow Wilson received this Prize – America led the world in constructing an architecture to keep the peace: a Marshall Plan and a United Nations, mechanisms to govern the waging of war, treaties to protect human rights, prevent genocide, and restrict the most dangerous weapons.

    In many ways, these efforts succeeded. Yes, terrible wars have been fought, and atrocities committed. But there has been no Third World War. The Cold War ended with jubilant crowds dismantling a wall. Commerce has stitched much of the world together. Billions have been lifted from poverty. The ideals of liberty, self-determination, equality and the rule of law have haltingly advanced. We are the heirs of the fortitude and foresight of generations past, and it is a legacy for which my own country is rightfully proud.

    A decade into a new century, this old architecture is buckling under the weight of new threats. The world may no longer shudder at the prospect of war between two nuclear superpowers, but proliferation may increase the risk of catastrophe. Terrorism has long been a tactic, but modern technology allows a few small men with outsized rage to murder innocents on a horrific scale.

    Moreover, wars between nations have increasingly given way to wars within nations. The resurgence of ethnic or sectarian conflicts; the growth of secessionist movements, insurgencies, and failed states; have increasingly trapped civilians in unending chaos. In today’s wars, many more civilians are killed than soldiers; the seeds of future conflict are sewn, economies are wrecked, civil societies torn asunder, refugees amassed, and children scarred.

    I do not bring with me today a definitive solution to the problems of war. What I do know is that meeting these challenges will require the same vision, hard work, and persistence of those men and women who acted so boldly decades ago. And it will require us to think in new ways about the notions of just war and the imperatives of a just peace.

    We must begin by acknowledging the hard truth that we will not eradicate violent conflict in our lifetimes. There will be times when nations – acting individually or in concert – will find the use of force not only necessary but morally justified.

    I make this statement mindful of what Martin Luther King said in this same ceremony years ago – «Violence never brings permanent peace. It solves no social problem: it merely creates new and more complicated ones.» As someone who stands here as a direct consequence of Dr. King’s life’s work, I am living testimony to the moral force of non-violence. I know there is nothing weak -nothing passive – nothing naïve – in the creed and lives of Gandhi and King.

    But as a head of state sworn to protect and defend my nation, I cannot be guided by their examples alone. I face the world as it is, and cannot stand idle in the face of threats to the American people. For make no mistake: evil does exist in the world. A non-violent movement could not have halted Hitler’s armies. Negotiations cannot convince al Qaeda’s leaders to lay down their arms. To say that force is sometimes necessary is not a call to cynicism – it is a recognition of history; the imperfections of man and the limits of reason.

    I raise this point because in many countries there is a deep ambivalence about military action today, no matter the cause. At times, this is joined by a reflexive suspicion of America, the world’s sole military superpower.

    Yet the world must remember that it was not simply international institutions – not just treaties and declarations – that brought stability to a post-World War II world. Whatever mistakes we have made, the plain fact is this: the United States of America has helped underwrite global security for more than six decades with the blood of our citizens and the strength of our arms. The service and sacrifice of our men and women in uniform has promoted peace and prosperity from Germany to Korea, and enabled democracy to take hold in places like the Balkans. We have borne this burden not because we seek to impose our will. We have done so out of enlightened self-interest – because we seek a better future for our children and grandchildren, and we believe that their lives will be better if other peoples’ children and grandchildren can live in freedom and prosperity.

    So yes, the instruments of war do have a role to play in preserving the peace. And yet this truth must coexist with another – that no matter how justified, war promises human tragedy. The soldier’s courage and sacrifice is full of glory, expressing devotion to country, to cause and to comrades in arms. But war itself is never glorious, and we must never trumpet it as such.

    So part of our challenge is reconciling these two seemingly irreconcilable truths – that war is sometimes necessary, and war is at some level an expression of human feelings. Concretely, we must direct our effort to the task that President Kennedy called for long ago. «Let us focus,» he said, «on a more practical, more attainable peace, based not on a sudden revolution in human nature but on a gradual evolution in human institutions.»

    What might this evolution look like? What might these practical steps be?

    To begin with, I believe that all nations – strong and weak alike – must adhere to standards that govern the use of force. I – like any head of state – reserve the right to act unilaterally if necessary to defend my nation. Nevertheless, I am convinced that adhering to standards strengthens those who do, and isolates – and weakens – those who don’t.

    The world rallied around America after the 9/11 attacks, and continues to support our efforts in Afghanistan, because of the horror of those senseless attacks and the recognized principle of self-defense. Likewise, the world recognized the need to confront Saddam Hussein when he invaded Kuwait – a consensus that sent a clear message to all about the cost of aggression.

    Furthermore, America cannot insist that others follow the rules of the road if we refuse to follow them ourselves. For when we don’t, our action can appear arbitrary, and undercut the legitimacy of future intervention – no matter how justified.

    This becomes particularly important when the purpose of military action extends beyond self defense or the defense of one nation against an aggressor. More and more, we all confront difficult questions about how to prevent the slaughter of civilians by their own government, or to stop a civil war whose violence and suffering can engulf an entire region.

    I believe that force can be justified on humanitarian grounds, as it was in the Balkans, or in other places that have been scarred by war. Inaction tears at our conscience and can lead to more costly intervention later. That is why all responsible nations must embrace the role that militaries with a clear mandate can play to keep the peace.

    America’s commitment to global security will never waiver. But in a world in which threats are more diffuse, and missions more complex, America cannot act alone. This is true in Afghanistan. This is true in failed states like Somalia, where terrorism and piracy is joined by famine and human suffering. And sadly, it will continue to be true in unstable regions for years to come.

    The leaders and soldiers of NATO countries – and other friends and allies – demonstrate this truth through the capacity and courage they have shown in Afghanistan. But in many countries, there is a disconnect between the efforts of those who serve and the ambivalence of the broader public. I understand why war is not popular. But I also know this: the belief that peace is desirable is rarely enough to achieve it. Peace requires responsibility. Peace entails sacrifice. That is why NATO continues to be indispensable. That is why we must strengthen UN and regional peacekeeping, and not leave the task to a few countries. That is why we honor those who return home from peacekeeping and training abroad to Oslo and Rome; to Ottawa and Sydney; to Dhaka and Kigali – we honor them not as makers of war, but as wagers of peace.

    Let me make one final point about the use of force. Even as we make difficult decisions about going to war, we must also think clearly about how we fight it. The Nobel Committee recognized this truth in awarding its first prize for peace to Henry Dunant – the founder of the Red Cross, and a driving force behind the Geneva Conventions.

    Where force is necessary, we have a moral and strategic interest in binding ourselves to certain rules of conduct. And even as we confront a vicious adversary that abides by no rules, I believe that the United States of America must remain a standard bearer in the conduct of war. That is what makes us different from those whom we fight. That is a source of our strength. That is why I prohibited torture. That is why I ordered the prison at Guantanamo Bay closed. And that is why I have reaffirmed America’s commitment to abide by the Geneva Conventions. We lose ourselves when we compromise the very ideals that we fight to defend. And we honor those ideals by upholding them not just when it is easy, but when it is hard.

    I have spoken to the questions that must weigh on our minds and our hearts as we choose to wage war. But let me turn now to our effort to avoid such tragic choices, and speak of three ways that we can build a just and lasting peace.

    First, in dealing with those nations that break rules and laws, I believe that we must develop alternatives to violence that are tough enough to change behavior – for if we want a lasting peace, then the words of the international community must mean something. Those regimes that break the rules must be held accountable. Sanctions must exact a real price. Intransigence must be met with increased pressure – and such pressure exists only when the world stands together as one.

    One urgent example is the effort to prevent the spread of nuclear weapons, and to seek a world without them. In the middle of the last century, nations agreed to be bound by a treaty whose bargain is clear: all will have access to peaceful nuclear power; those without nuclear weapons will forsake them; and those with nuclear weapons will work toward disarmament. I am committed to upholding this treaty. It is a centerpiece of my foreign policy. And I am working with President Medvedev to reduce America and Russia’s nuclear stockpiles.

    But it is also incumbent upon all of us to insist that nations like Iran and North Korea do not game the system. Those who claim to respect international law cannot avert their eyes when those laws are flouted. Those who care for their own security cannot ignore the danger of an arms race in the Middle East or East Asia. Those who seek peace cannot stand idly by as nations arm themselves for nuclear war.

    The same principle applies to those who violate international law by brutalizing their own people. When there is genocide in Darfur; systematic rape in Congo; or repression in Burma – there must be consequences. And the closer we stand together, the less likely we will be faced with the choice between armed intervention and complicity in oppression.

    This brings me to a second point – the nature of the peace that we seek. For peace is not merely the absence of visible conflict. Only a just peace based upon the inherent rights and dignity of every individual can truly be lasting.

    It was this insight that drove drafters of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights after the Second World War. In the wake of devastation, they recognized that if human rights are not protected, peace is a hollow promise.

    And yet all too often, these words are ignored. In some countries, the failure to uphold human rights is excused by the false suggestion that these are Western principles, foreign to local cultures or stages of a nation’s development. And within America, there has long been a tension between those who describe themselves as realists or idealists – a tension that suggests a stark choice between the narrow pursuit of interests or an endless campaign to impose our values.

    I reject this choice. I believe that peace is unstable where citizens are denied the right to speak freely or worship as they please; choose their own leaders or assemble without fear. Pent up grievances fester, and the suppression of tribal and religious identity can lead to violence. We also know that the opposite is true. Only when Europe became free did it finally find peace. America has never fought a war against a democracy, and our closest friends are governments that protect the rights of their citizens. No matter how callously defined, neither America’s interests – nor the world’s -are served by the denial of human aspirations.

    So even as we respect the unique culture and traditions of different countries, America will always be a voice for those aspirations that are universal. We will bear witness to the quiet dignity of reformers like Aung Sang Suu Kyi; to the bravery of Zimbabweans who cast their ballots in the face of beatings; to the hundreds of thousands who have marched silently through the streets of Iran. It is telling that the leaders of these governments fear the aspirations of their own people more than the power of any other nation. And it is the responsibility of all free people and free nations to make clear to these movements that hope and history are on their side

    Let me also say this: the promotion of human rights cannot be about exhortation alone. At times, it must be coupled with painstaking diplomacy. I know that engagement with repressive regimes lacks the satisfying purity of indignation. But I also know that sanctions without outreach – and condemnation without discussion – can carry forward a crippling status quo. No repressive regime can move down a new path unless it has the choice of an open door

    In light of the Cultural Revolution’s horrors, Nixon’s meeting with Mao appeared inexcusable – and yet it surely helped set China on a path where millions of its citizens have been lifted from poverty, and connected to open societies. Pope John Paul’s engagement with Poland created space not just for the Catholic Church, but for labor leaders like Lech Walesa. Ronald Reagan’s efforts on arms control and embrace of perestroika not only improved relations with the Soviet Union, but empowered dissidents throughout Eastern Europe. There is no simple formula here. But we must try as best we can to balance isolation and engagement; pressure and incentives, so that human rights and dignity are advanced over time.

    Third, a just peace includes not only civil and political rights – it must encompass economic security and opportunity. For true peace is not just freedom from fear, but freedom from want.

    It is undoubtedly true that development rarely takes root without security; it is also true that security does not exist where human beings do not have access to enough food, or clean water, or the medicine they need to survive. It does not exist where children cannot aspire to a decent education or a job that supports a family. The absence of hope can rot a society from within.

    And that is why helping farmers feed their own people – or nations educate their children and care for the sick – is not mere charity. It is also why the world must come together to confront climate change. There is little scientific dispute that if we do nothing, we will face more drought, famine and mass displacement that will fuel more conflict for decades. For this reason, it is not merely scientists and activists who call for swift and forceful action – it is military leaders in my country and others who understand that our common security hangs in the balance.

    Agreements among nations. Strong institutions. Support for human rights. Investments in development. All of these are vital ingredients in bringing about the evolution that President Kennedy spoke about. And yet, I do not believe that we will have the will, or the staying power, to complete this work without something more – and that is the continued expansion of our moral imagination; an insistence that there is something irreducible that we all share.

    As the world grows smaller, you might think it would be easier for human beings to recognize how similar we are; to understand that we all basically want the same things; that we all hope for the chance to live out our lives with some measure of happiness and fulfillment for ourselves and our families.

    And yet, given the dizzying pace of globalization, and the cultural leveling of modernity, it should come as no surprise that people fear the loss of what they cherish about their particular identities – their race, their tribe, and perhaps most powerfully their religion. In some places, this fear has led to conflict. At times, it even feels like we are moving backwards. We see it in Middle East, as the conflict between Arabs and Jews seems to harden. We see it in nations that are torn asunder by tribal lines.

    Most dangerously, we see it in the way that religion is used to justify the murder of innocents by those who have distorted and defiled the great religion of Islam, and who attacked my country from Afghanistan. These extremists are not the first to kill in the name of God; the cruelties of the Crusades are amply recorded. But they remind us that no Holy War can ever be a just war. For if you truly believe that you are carrying out divine will, then there is no need for restraint – no need to spare the pregnant mother, or the medic, or even a person of one’s own faith. Such a warped view of religion is not just incompatible with the concept of peace, but the purpose of faith – for the one rule that lies at the heart of every major religion is that we do unto others as we would have them do unto us.

    Adhering to this law of love has always been the core struggle of human nature. We are fallible. We make mistakes, and fall victim to the temptations of pride, and power, and sometimes evil. Even those of us with the best intentions will at times fail to right the wrongs before us.

    But we do not have to think that human nature is perfect for us to still believe that the human condition can be perfected. We do not have to live in an idealized world to still reach for those ideals that will make it a better place. The non-violence practiced by men like Gandhi and King may not have been practical or possible in every circumstance, but the love that they preached – their faith in human progress – must always be the North Star that guides us on our journey.

    For if we lose that faith – if we dismiss it as silly or naïve; if we divorce it from the decisions that we make on issues of war and peace – then we lose what is best about humanity. We lose our sense of possibility. We lose our moral compass.

    Like generations have before us, we must reject that future. As Dr. King said at this occasion so many years ago, «I refuse to accept despair as the final response to the ambiguities of history. I refuse to accept the idea that the ‘isness’ of man’s present nature makes him morally incapable of reaching up for the eternal ‘oughtness’ that forever confronts him.»

    So let us reach for the world that ought to be – that spark of the divine that still stirs within each of our souls. Somewhere today, in the here and now, a soldier sees he’s outgunned but stands firm to keep the peace. Somewhere today, in this world, a young protestor awaits the brutality of her government, but has the courage to march on. Somewhere today, a mother facing punishing poverty still takes the time to teach her child, who believes that a cruel world still has a place for his dreams.

    Let us live by their example. We can acknowledge that oppression will always be with us, and still strive for justice. We can admit the intractability of depravation, and still strive for dignity. We can understand that there will be war, and still strive for peace. We can do that – for that is the story of human progress; that is the hope of all the world; and at this moment of challenge, that must be our work here on Earth.

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