This week, after years of investigation, the Brereton report was released. It outlined credible information that 19 Australian soldiers had ‘illegally killed’ 39 people in Afghanistan and ‘cruelly treated’ another 2.
‘Illegally killed’ means murdered.
‘Cruelly treated’ means tortured.
These were not unfortunate, inevitable deaths in the heat of battle, though even that kind of death haunts the nightmares of soldiers. These were cold-blooded executions of prisoners who were already restrained. Some soldiers carried ‘throwdowns’ – evidence that could be planted on a victim to suggest that they were dangerous. Some soldiers, particularly junior soldiers, were pressured by their superiors to shoot prisoners in order to get their ‘first kill’ in a practice known as ‘blooding’.
Kerry Stokes, who owns The West Australian newspaper and the Seven News Network, and who is also Chair of the Board of the War Memorial in Canberra, has established a special fund to help members of the SAS and their families through the court cases that will now follow.
I am not aware that anyone has established a special fund to help the families of the Afghan people who were brazenly murdered.
The initial response to these revelations has been similar to the response in the early days of the clergy child abuse scandals. Something like… ‘These terrible acts, which are terrible, were committed by a few bad eggs and are not representative of the culture of the Australian Defence Forces, who are not terrible but are actually really very good, and these terrible people have sullied the name of the Australian army, but these are terrible isolated instances and everyone else thinks they’re terrible because everyone else is good’
Both my grandfathers served in the military, including as prisoners of war. Like all of you, I have family members and close friends who have served in the defence forces. But my entire adult life has been in a vocation which experienced a dramatic fall from grace in the public perception, beginning with the revelations that there were ‘a few bad eggs’ and concluding with the realisation that the whole edifice is rotten – corrupt and obsessed with power, ‘mates protecting mates’ and not just passive ignorance, but active empowerment of abusers.
Mark my words (as they say), the revelations about military violence did not begin with the SAS in Afghanistan, and will not end there.
Monty Python and the Holy Grail features an iconic interaction between Dennis, Dennis’s mother and King Arthur. ‘I am your king’ declares Arthur. ‘Well I didn't vote for you!’ responds Dennis’s mother. When Arthur’s mystical journey to kingship is explained, Dennis repsponds ‘Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for a system of government! Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some... farcical aquatic ceremony!’ Frustrated, Arthur attacks Dennis who declares ‘Aha! Now we see the violence inherent in the system!’
Now we see the violence inherent in the system.
You don’t get to be a nation state and enjoy our prosperous lifestyle without violence. Nations are founded on violence and sustained by violence. Violent systems are established and maintained within nations, in order to preserve stability. These days, we are usually fairly good at keeping the violence hidden or contained so that the illusion of calm and safety can be maintained. But occasionally it does bubble to the surface. The robodebt fiasco, which targeted poor, vulnerable people with computer-generated payment demands has now been exposed as the cruel and vindictive project it truly was. Slowly, very slowly, this nation’s vile treatment of people seeking asylum is being exposed in the courts and on the streets. And the scourge of family violence is steadily being brought into the spotlight. But these revelations of violence, alongside those in the military and the institutional church, are not autonomous. They are not caused by a few bad eggs. So-called ‘civilisation’ relies on violence as a vital part of the machinery.
‘"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate them one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats…’
This is the climax of Jesus campaign speech. He is on the steps of the Temple in Jerusalem. A crowd is gathered around. Angry, suspicious teachers of the law watch on with frustration. Matthew’s Jesus paints an image that can only evoke an image of the Emperor in Rome – a king sitting on a throne, surrounded by attendants, with all the nations of the world gathered in front. Who else but Caesar, the living god, could be in the chair?
But of course it is not Caesar, but the Son of Man, whom we understand to be Jesus returning in glory. And it is not individuals that the Son of Man is dividing up, like a shepherd separating sheep from goats, but nations. It’s right there in the text - nations are the subject of this judgement in the parable, not individuals.
And on what basis are these nations judged? Their commitment to the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the cold, the sick and those in prison. When they cared for the least of Jesus ‘brothers’ they cared for Jesus. And, of course, the reverse is true for the nations that did not care.
In the last few hundred years, Christian faith has become increasingly obsessed with the final destination of the individual. As though Jesus died and rose so that a select few may have access to the happy hunting grounds. But the climax of Jesus’ teaching in Matthew’s gospel is about the exact opposite. It is about corporate responsibility, community identity. It is about the system we are a part of. Jesus knew as we know (when we are honest) that the systems we inhabit are inherently violent. And he proposes an antidote. A nonviolent antidote. Generosity, compassion, equitable distribution – these can counteract the violence. But we are not invited merely as individuals to make changes to our actions, but as what the gospel-writer calls ‘nations’ and what we might call communities.
To confront and transform the violent system, we build and participate in nonviolent systems. We break the pattern of consumptions and acquisition by giving away freely. We break the pattern of domination by submitting to the God of justice. We are released from the love of self by God’s forgiveness, and set free to love others instead. And as we do this work, and allow God to work in us, violence has no more power and we taste eternal life.
The Lord Be With You