Nonviolent Struggle and Social Defence

Published in 1991 by War Resisters' International and the Myrtle Solomon Memorial Fund Subcommittee (of the Lansbury House Trust Fund; Charity Reg No 306139) c/o War Resisters' International, 55 Dawes Street, London SE17 1EL, Britain.
A grant towards the production of this book was received from the Puckham Trust
ISBN 0 903517 14 0
Edited by Shelley Anderson and Janet Larmore
Production by Howard Clark and Ken Simons
All copyrights are held by the authors

Shelley Anderson and Janet Larmore, Introduction
Petra Kelly, Why haven't peace movements taken social defence seriously?
Jean-Marie Muller, Why and how to work with governments
Gene Sharp, Transitions to civilian-based defence
Marko Hren, Yugoslavia: the past and the future
Maria Serena I Diokno, People Power: The Philippines
Andrew Rigby and Nafez Assaily, The Intifada
Jan Kavan, Ruth Sormova, and Michaela Neubauerova, Czechoslovakia's nonviolent revolution
Narayan Desai, Nonviolent people's struggles in India
Leung Wing Yue, Lau Bing Sum, and Liu Wei Ping, China: a time of hope met by horror
Fernando Aliaga Rojas, How we won democracy in Chile
Elzbieta Rawicz-Oledzka, A new style of Polish protest
Vanessa Griffen, Social defence against coups: the case of Fiji
Julio Quan, Low Intensity Conflict: Central America
Jacqui Boulle, Lawrence Sibisi and Rob Goldman, Low Intensity Conflict: South Africa
Brian Martin, Social Defence: Arguments and actions

Introduction

Shelley Anderson and Janet Larmore

Shelley Anderson is editor of Reconciliation International. Janet Larmore works for Greenpeace International. Both are US citizens living in the Netherlands. At the time of the Bradford conference, they both worked for Disarmament Campaigns.

"It's wonderful to meet a group of people whose time has come." With this greeting James O'Connell of the Bradford School of Peace Studies welcomed participants to the Bradford Conference on Nonviolent Struggle and Social Defence, held 3-7 April 1990 in Bradford, England. In the following pages you will read about some of the discussions from that conference. The gathering, which included five full days of plenary sessions, workshops and intense personal conversations that went on into many late hours of the night, was organised by War Resisters' International (WRI) and the International Fellowship of Reconciliation (IFOR), in cooperation with the Bradford School of Peace Studies.

Over 100 people attended the conference, where a unique mix of politicians, grass roots activists, researchers -- and one member of the West German Military Academy -- challenged and listened deeply to one another. Some participants, like German parliamentarian Petra Kelly and researcher Gene Sharp, are well known in international peace movement circles; others are respected activists inside their own communities, involved, in particular, with campaigns to abolish their countries' militaries or in promoting conscientious objection.

They came with first-hand experiences of both violence and active nonviolence: a Dutch nonviolence trainer had lived in Romania under Ceaucescu; a South African minister from Natal had witnessed the assassination of his next-door neighbour; a Central American peace activist traced his activism to seeing, when he was a young boy playing football with friends, government soldiers drag a team mate away and behead him. East German participants listened attentively to Maria Diokno from the Philippines on how the revolution brought about by people's power was betrayed; Elzbieta Rawicz-Oledzka of Poland and Vanessa Griffen of Fiji co-led a workshop on the role of social defence after a military takeover. Perhaps the only thing all the participants had in common was a desire to explore the power of nonviolence.

People's power in the Philippines, the nonviolent revolutions in Eastern Europe, the pro-democracy movement in China have all inspired more people to investigate the possibilities of nonviolent social defence. But as interest increases, so do the questions. And one major question which confronted many of the Bradford conference's participants was -- what exactly is meant by the phrase "social defence"? And how does it differ from the other terms -- civilian-based defence, popular resistance, people's power, nonviolent civilian defence. Common to all these is a belief in the usefulness of mass, non-military action by ordinary citizens in defending their way of life. But should the definition be restricted to defending a territory against outside aggression? Or should it be expanded to include the protection of institutions or certain values against any threat, internal or external? If this is the case, whose values are to be defended? The consensus or the degree of social unity that this assumes may not exist in reality. What if the way of life to be protected is actually the source of violence itself? How is social defence different from nonviolent struggle?

Coming up with a concrete definition is not just an academic exercise. Linked to all this is an important strategic question about how the idea of social defence should be presented to the larger society. This is the question of whether or not social defence is a supplement to military defence, or a replacement. Some advocates urge a de-coupling of social defence from its pacifist roots, and an emphasis on social defence as a practical way of making the costs of an occupation so high that any aggressor would think twice about an invasion. Researchers such as Gene Sharp and Jean-Marie Muller have found military officials very interested in social defence for this reason. Indeed, in response to the 1985 study La Dissuasion Civile, written by Muller and his colleagues Christian Mellon and Jacques Semelin for the Foundation for National Defence Studies, General Buis wrote, "If nuclear deterrence fails, if the enemy has not been discouraged from attacking, then our deterrence strategy is useless. That is why civilian resistance is necessary; and it must be nonviolent."

Advocates point out that social defence is a method that could be used by any citizen, after training, not just by pacifists or nonviolent activists. Social defence could be integrated into military defence plans, which could be an important step towards persuading the military to adopt more defensive strategies -- another first step towards the longer term goal of ending the military. The advantage to both this approach and definition of social defence is a very practical one, supporters point out -- even if does not accept the pacifist dream of ending war completely, the body count is lowered. While a simultaneous civilian defence may not come up to a pacifist ideal, fewer people are killed.

But for many nonviolent activists the idea of working alongside the military is tantamount to sleeping with the devil. While nonviolent action may involve many of same components as military action (keeping morale up, good communications, clear goals and coordinated action), many believe the two systems are incompatible. In a conference workshop dealing with this issue, Slovenian peace activist Marko Hren said that the military model was based on centralised power, hierarchy and obedience. A nonviolent resistance, on the other hand, was by its very nature decentralised and non-hierarchical. He gave the example of his own country of Yugoslavia, where at the time military units were augmented by the organisation of civilians for non-armed defence.

Many of the conference participants supported a much broader definition of social defence, a definition that would encompass nonviolent social movements that struggle to change society from within. "The word ´defence' in the phrase social defence is losing its international dimension in Europe," said Andreas Gross of Switzerland at the conference. "In the future, there may not be one state defending itself from another, but rather democratic, social and peaceful achievements, processes and projects against the use of force from several sides. This progression from foreign policy to the internal politics of countries throughout the world must be included in the social defence concept, so practical concrete steps can be developed on the way to societies without armies." German activists, uncomfortable with the reactive connotation of the terms "social defence", have come up with the phrase "social attack", meaning a programme of action that gets to the roots of violence in one's own society. Julio Quan of Guatemala defines social defence in this broader context as, "The creation of a democratic based power for economic, social, political, ideological and ecological security."

As stated before, social defence implies a degree of unity, or consensus, on the part of the civilian population. What if such consensus does not exist -- and for good reasons, because society's own institutions are the oppressors? Some theorists, such as Theodor Ebert, distinguish between the nonviolent defence of a society against a military aggressor, either internal (coup or civil war) or external, and when the aggressor is the government itself or an institution in the society. The first definition is an example of social defence. The second he would call Gewaltfreier aufstand, or social uprising. Many activists do not like such a distinction. Women in particular are expanding on the idea of social defence to explore questions like just what are the values we would want to defend and what kind of world do we want to live in.

"Women can't defend the existing governmental institutions with their sexist structures, as they are an expression of structural and personal violence against women," writes Renate Wanie in her paper "Women and Social Defence". "I believe that women will take an active part in putting social defence into practice if they can combine their political hopes for a life worthy of human beings with their individual daily and autonomous decisions." Wanie cautions peace groups to examine their own sexist structures and ways of organising, and points out that nonviolence can be a double-edged sword for women. "We have to be careful so that in nonviolent actions -- which often imply a readiness to suffer and a sacrificial attitude -- women don't reinforce our socialised role. An act which can be liberating for men, as it contradicts their conventional role, can affect women negatively."

Another important challenge raised at Bradford throughout the conference was just how applicable Western ideas of social defence are to situations in the South. Once again, the aggressor may not be an external enemy, but one's own government, or other official institutions. There may also be more than two parties involved in the conflict, as is the case where countries are composed of many different ethnic or tribal groups. The violence of poverty, of external debts which hold development for ransom, and of newer, more sophisticated forms of warfare such as low-intensity conflicts demand new nonviolent strategies and campaigns. A great deal of sharing went on during the conference between East Europeans and participants from Latin America, Palestine, Asia, the Pacific and South Africa, whose experiences with repressive governments and active nonviolent opposition gave them some comparison.

The conference was exhausting, stimulating and challenging by turns, just as the entire issue of social defence is. We hope this account of some of the conference's proceedings will encourage more groups and individuals to investigate the potential of a nonviolent defence. Then perhaps we will see if social defence is, indeed, an idea whose time has come.

Why haven't peace movements taken social defence seriously?

Petra Kelly

Petra Kelly has been a member of the German Greens (die Grünen) for 11 years and at the time of this conference, she represented the party in the Bundestag. In December 1990, after a national election in a newly united Germany, the Green Party received less than 4 per cent of the vote, and as a result, lost all of its seats in the German Parliament.

Just before this conference, I was at our Green Party conference and, as usual, we got caught up in discussing and quarrelling about many issues. As a result, we never got around to debating the question of social defence, or the present military situation in Lithuania or why we presently show so little support for the "Germany Without an Army" movement (Bundesrepublik ohne Armee).

It was one of those typical Green Party conferences which make it so dramatically clear how we end up missing out on the questions of the century by being so preoccupied with ourselves and our own quarrels. I say this with some melancholy and bitterness because the '90s will either be an age of social and nonviolent defence or an age of new nationalism: of the ugly Germans creating a Super-Germany within a super-militarised Europe, perhaps even an age when new national conflicts, like those between Hungary and Romania or between Czechs and Slovaks, begin all over again.

On one hand, we had so much hope when the group "Switzerland Without an Army" gained so much popular support during their campaign to create a referendum. Over 36 per cent of the Swiss population voted against the army and this was a very important and strategic signal in Western Europe -- in a small, neutral country, ruled by capital and European banks. It was brave enough to pose this most important question -- should we or should we not live with an army?

I was also very hopeful when a few weeks ago, Gert Bastian [former general in the German military and Green Party member] and I had the privilege of accompanying the Dalai Lama on his first personal trip to Prague, Czechoslovakia at the invitation of Vaclav Havel. The Dalai Lama was asked what type of defence he thought would be suitable for the future of Czechoslovakia and Eastern Europe. With his usual deep wisdom, he answered that there was no longer a need for any military defence, that in fact, military defence made no sense and that the only type of defence that is necessary is one that is civilian-based -- nonviolent, non-military defence.

The 14th Dalai Lama of Tibet has repeatedly pointed out that what is most important is to be able to have a peaceful heart. Only when we understand the true nature lying within, can we live harmoniously with the rest of the natural world. E F Schumacher has said that a nonviolent and gentle attitude towards nature and living things can be the solution to our crisis. A violent and aggressive approach to the natural world is fed by human greed for short-term material gain without care for the long-term effects on other generations.

We all know that nonviolence differs considerably from religious pacifism. Nonviolence includes a broader definition of what causes and constitutes violence, takes the initiative against the existing system of dominance and privilege, and gives more conscious attention to the building of an alternative social structure. A J Muste called for a nonviolent revolutionary movement which would include both changes in external relationships and inner transformations of the individual.

My roots in nonviolence go back to the '60s when I was studying in the US and to the Prague Spring of 1968. I was in Prague, along with my grandmother, during those dramatic days in August. For five days I was under house arrest in a hotel in Wenceslas Square, and what I saw during those five days was the beginning of social or nonviolent defence.

Even after Dubcek and his closest associates were arrested, Czechoslovakia and its leaders remained steadfast in passive resistance, storing up the kind of patriotism through sacrifice and suffering which the country never had had before and would profit from greatly in the future.

The spirit to which its people so nobly responded was fittingly put into words in the 22 August 1968 Resolution. " ... let us lift our heads against raised gun barrels. With the calm and prudence of a dignified and free people ... let us stand proudly as our fathers stood and so that our children will not be ashamed of us. We are adopting this standpoint to the sound of occupation forces shooting, but we do so freely, and with an awareness of our historic responsibility ... "

Since the Prague Spring so much has occurred -- the phases of the Cold War, the ominous modernisation of the arms race between the superpowers and the rest of the nuclear powers, the upsurge of the various independent peace movements across the globe as well as those peace movements that were run by the old Communist regimes.

We, in Europe, have learned from the radical activity in the USA which had considerably broadened from opposition to the Vietnam War, racism and militarism, and so forth -- issues which marked the late '50s and '60s. The mass movements in the USA opposing the war and the NATO decision to deploy Pershing and Cruise Missiles in Western Europe had an impact on public opinion, public consciousness and even on some political leaders.

The strategies used for nonviolent struggle and civil disobedience by West European peace movements were very modest, in comparison to the democracy movements in Eastern Europe. In the West, the peace movement first went through a phase of massive mobilisation throughout various capitals in Europe, where once a year about 300,000 to 500,000 of us gathered together to demonstrate nonviolently -- but with very little creativity.

Some of us went on to participate in individual or collective civil disobedience actions in front of military bases and installations. The British Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament was in the forefront of mobilising people for such actions, including massive ´die-ins' and other forms of nonviolent protest. The women of Greenham Common were a hopeful sign of moving further with our civil disobedience.

In other areas of the world, such as New Zealand and Australia, we were seeing very powerful demonstrations for civil disobedience, and the concept of social defence was being included in the peace movement's platform.

However, in Germany, the debate was focused on getting rid of Pershing and Cruise Missiles. We also tried very hard to include the question of human rights in the platform of our different peace demonstrations. There were endless debates about whether or not to include Solidarnosc or whether or not to include the names of such people as Vaclav Havel or Barbel Böhley in the demands of the disarmament movement. For us it was clear that if we wanted to move to a nonviolent society, we must not only take up the issues of militarism and arms production and export, but also the question of human rights.

We tried to include the question of social defence as a goal of the peace movement, but this was very difficult. There were many internal debates within the movement as to how much military one should accept and what transitional steps are possible on the way to living without armies.

Not long after the Greens arrived in parliament in 1983, they began raising the issue of alternative forms of defence, including social defence. Those who attended the hearing within the Defence Committee or Green meetings on social defence, know how difficult it was to get a consensus.

Gene Sharp remained steadfast in his assertion that nonviolence is, above all, a practical strategy applicable to ordinary mortals and requires no special phase in a higher order of being. The theoretical and operative basis of civilian-based defence is the insight that power derives not from the barrel of a gun, as many people believe, but from the consent of the governed. We argued in the peace movement that civilian-based defence does not defend borders in the military sense we are accustomed to. The strength of nonviolent defence inheres in its capacity for ceaseless resistance, spoiling the spoils of war and depriving the aggressor of his anticipated fruits of victory.

There were, at this time, a few feasibility studies undertaken in Sweden, Denmark and Holland on social defence, but they always received funding at far below the requested amount. The German Greens, and a number of other alternative parties in European parliaments, endorsed a policy of social defence -- a nonviolent defence by the entire society -- to replace conventional armed defence. Even the French and Austrian Governments commissioned limited studies of the possible usefulness of nonviolent defence.

During the '80s, more women in the peace movement began demanding that violence against women -- psychological, physical and economic -- be recognised and stopped, and that social institutions be changed so that they no longer reflected a pattern of dominance and submission. These women were also in the forefront of demanding that social defence be included in the peace movement's aims. Women in the movement began encouraging a more humane and loving standard of behaviour instead of relationships steeped in aggression and competition. Nonetheless, peace movements across Europe became even more dominated by men, some of whom still believed in the more traditional way of gaining power.

Disarming particular weapons systems was the priority of the '80s, yet there was a tremendous amount of debating going on within the various peace movements. Not everyone was a whole-hearted supporter of pacifism or nonviolence or of saying "no" to all forms of military defence. Some of the war resisters in Western Europe even felt that it was right to take up a gun in Nicaragua to fight the Contras. We had many different direct action projects to try to halt the deployment of new weapons, to resist war taxes and to encourage conversion to a peacetime economy.

But only a small minority of people participated. It wasn't the impressive masses of people that we've recently seen on the streets of Leipzig or Dresden or Prague. And yet already in East Germany after the East German elections, we are seeing how quickly revolutions devour their fathers and mothers and how quickly West German capital and banks and politicians snuff out the dreams of nonviolence and a radically democratic East Germany.

The twentieth century has been far bloodier than the preceding one and in my opinion the coming ten years are our last hope for a truly nonviolent and peaceful new world order. Just as nuclear energy opponents in the '70s realised that it wasn't enough just to oppose nuclear energy, they also had to offer an alternative energy policy, so too have many critics of the arms race just now realised that they must promote an alternative defence policy. We must reject a mix of military and social defence concepts. Yet this has been at the root of a debate within the Federation for Social Defence (Bund für Soziale Verteidigung) founded in Minden in 1989. Civilian-based defence cannot be mixed or compromised if it is to provide a true nonviolent alternative to conventional means of defence. Military means must be phased out as training of the population progresses and public confidence in social defence increases.

What we need now is not so much exchanging our bad experiences in trying to get social defence accepted, but practical work in the area of social defence. This means building regional and local centres for social defence and nonviolent training, trying to increase the work of the Peace Brigades and having the courage to intervene nonviolently in situations of conflict. For example in Cambodia, or right now in Lithuania where Russian tanks and solders are trying to intimidate those who are struggling for independence. It also means supporting the nonviolent struggle of the Tibetan and Chinese people in exile and those who continue to struggle inside these countries.

Social defence must not end up as a study project or programme if there is any hope of it becoming a true and credible alternative. Discussions with Tibetan and Chinese friends from democracy and independence movements have shown me that they are well aware of the possibilities for using civilian-based defence, but that far too many of us here in Western Europe have tried to tell them how to resist. Nonviolent struggle, social defence, these are the key question for the '90s and for the end of this bloody century.

At a time when NATO has decided to continue its nuclear and chemical and conventional war strategies and at a time when it is about to move its borders to the East German-Polish border, this is exactly the time that civilian-based defence must be counter-proposed to NATO policies. Social defence is pragmatic rather than ideological and thus requires efficient organisation, detailed preparation and very good training. It is here, I believe, where peace movements and the limited resources they have, along with the Green Parties, have failed.

Even the German Greens, who have more resources than most, are still incapable of instituting practical work in the area of social defence. This nonviolent strategy of preparing societies to not be ruled by aggressors from within or without must become a key goal of the peace movements.

I am very grateful for the writings of Gene Sharp concerning civilian-based defence's potential. These writing need to be translated not only into the languages of Europe, but into Chinese and Tibetan as well. We must try to link up with nonviolent resistance movements around the world who are trying to pragmatically practice nonviolent forms of defence and massive campaigns of civil disobedience. Visiting India, I've been amazed at the many nonviolent civil disobedience campaigns going on there -- such as the demonstrations at the Orissa Missile Base. Or I think about the Chipko Movement (the "tree-huggers") of the Indian women. And I think of the nonviolent strategies that the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan people strive to live by.

So far, the peace movement and the anti-nuclear movements have more-or-less functioned as an emergency fire-fighting brigade. But we have had neither the priorities nor the proper strategies for looking at the underlying problems in ridding the world of militarism and deterrence thinking. We should keep in mind that the UN could also play a role if civilian-based defence were adopted simultaneously by several countries in a coordinated programme of transarmament.

The massive nonviolent struggle in those East European countries which have been under a dictatorship, although they may not formally fall under the concept of civilian-based defence, have in fact taught us a lesson in advance preparation that we all need to learn. This lesson of self-liberation is one we have not yet quite learned in Western Europe. Preparations in civilian-based defence can also help stimulate liberation groups around the world to apply similar methods and strategies against their own internal oppressive regimes.

But of all movements which have the freedom and the resource to do so, it is the West European disarmament movements which must address as soon as possible the issue of social defence as a main priority.

Why and how to work with governments

Jean-Marie Muller

Jean-Marie Muller is active in the Mouvement pour une Alternative Nonviolente in France and is co-author of La Dissuasion Civile(Fondation pour les Etudes de Défense Nationale, 1987).

Nonviolent civilian defence is an alternative to military defence: defence against attempts at destabilisation, at control, at domination or occupation of our society, coupled with a way of organising and preparing nonviolent actions of non-cooperation or of confrontation so that the enemy becomes incapacitated and unable to reach the ideological, political, economic goals that prompted the aggression.

What relationship can supporters of nonviolent civilian defence have with a government? As an essentially violent institution, the State is considered the principal enemy of nonviolent revolution. Therefore those of us who cooperate with it are accused of betraying nonviolence.

First of all, this is not about asking the State to organise nonviolent civilian defence along military lines. The framework for nonviolent civilian defence is completely different: it is not a code prescribed by the State and imposed on the people. It is a mobilisation of the people, affirming their rights, their liberty, their worth and their culture. The structure of nonviolent civilian defence is not upheld at the peak of the State's pyramid: it depends on support from the base of society. It does not rely on a regimented discipline imposed upon citizens but on free and resolute citizens taking responsibility to defend their liberty. Nonviolent civilian defence is truly the strength of the citizen and the power of the people.

Civilian defence mobilises citizens in organisations separate from the State and functioning in a realm outside its control: bodies such as political movements, workers' and professional unions, humanitarian associations -- from the largest non-governmental organisations to the smallest neighbourhood action group -- and the churches. In a crisis, all these autonomous citizens' organisations -- civil society -- would become the supply of resistance for nonviolent civilian defence.

Civil society, however, does not represent all sectors: political society is an important facet of any democratic society, and vital for effective nonviolent civilian defence. Potential aggressors often think of seizing the political sector so that they can dictate their own objectives through its structure. As one cannot defend one part of the framework and leave the other wide open for attack, the question becomes not should the civilian and the political sectors work together at all, but how their union can be made the most effective.

In case of an aggressive intervention, we must also convince political society to prepare, to mobilise and to organise a nonviolent strategy, starting from the base. The contacts already established with political organisations and the unions will help to put into action an institutional dialogue with the people who make up political sector.

The essential characteristic of political society is its dependence on the public sector: the legislature, represented by the parliamentarians, and the executive branch, represented by the ministers. Those who propose a nonviolent strategy are brought before the elected representatives -- from the smallest town all the way up to the ministers and their aides.

Negotiations won't bring overnight abolition of the armed forces, unilateral disarmament and the choice of civilian nonviolence as the sole form of national security. What we need is a process of transarmament: a socio-political dynamic transforming our militarised society into a civilised one.

The first step must be to show the coherence of our nonviolent civilian defence strategy. It is irrational for a society's entire defence to rest solely on the military. The mobilisation of citizens for total nonviolent civilian defence should be put into practice, willingly supported by the institutions within the political sector.

We must convince institutional representatives that nonviolent civilian defence is imperative: they may not agree to renounce military defence, but this is no reason not to try to convince them that there is another way. This dialogue, however, will be a conflictual dialogue. Our choice of nonviolence, rooted in both ethical and pragmatic reasons, does not permit us to put aside our questioning of military ideologies, strategies, the military industrial complex or the militarisation of our societies.

On the one hand, we ask those in power to accept our arguments for nonviolent civilian defence and, on the other, we still challenge their support of military defence. Arguing with a defence minister, the militant advocate of nonviolence is in a superior position: the minister merely needs convincing that a good minister should recognise the benefits of nonviolent civilian defence; the militant, on the other hand, has to be convinced that a good citizen should let her/himself be seduced by the metallic brilliance of military hardware...

And so in this scenario, there are big areas of disagreement and a little area where agreement might be possible. Concrete results will only be seen if a real mobilisation occurs, a large enough movement of citizens to put pressure on those elected. It is not enough for officials to think nonviolent civilian defence is effective: they must believe that the people themselves are ready to put the strategy into action.

These officials will also find out that citizens will be tempted to experiment with nonviolent action, not against a foreign power but against abuses of power by their very own government. If you teach a functionary too well to disobey illegitimate orders from illegitimate powers, s/he might also disobey an illegitimate order from a legitimate power.

In military defence, the weapons are in the hands of the State, usable for defence against an outside enemy and also against a force from within. In nonviolent civilian defence, the "weapons" are in the hands of the people themselves and can be used in defence against actions of the State if fundamental rights are threatened. This power, the power held by the citizens themselves, is what we call democracy. Since the true strength of democracy lies in the people, the preparation of nonviolent civilian defence will reinforce their rights and weaken those of the State.

More nonviolent civilian defence leads to a smaller army and a less powerful State. Anarchists who seek an end to the State and pacifists who seek an end to the army are both inconsequential if they reject policies of nonviolent civilian defence. Rather they should be the first to adopt a pragmatic attitude that would advance their goals instead of an ideological one which serves merely to affirm them.

The preparation of nonviolent civilian defence reinforces democracy, making it all the more possible to struggle against injustice and thus pursue permanent social revolution which all our "democracies" need.

I wish to distinguish between civilian defence and social revolution first so as not to confuse the two, and second to make sure that they are not separated. They are not the same but reinforce each other. There are two approaches to nonviolent civilian defence: the "instrumentalist" and the "structuralist". The first promotes research into the methods of nonviolent resistance that can be substituted for armed civilian defence; the other promotes the transformation of the structural form of society creates the conditions for civilian defence. These two positions often clash with each other, as if they were irreconcilable. But I see them as completely compatible: we should choose both and create a coherent movement.

It is clear that the institutional dialogue between the advocates of nonviolent civilian defence and public representatives can only take place in a pure democracy: a democracy not only of representation but of active participation. As these ideal conditions do not exist, we must strive to dialogue with our adversaries as well as with our partners. These talks are by no means easy and their eventual success will require long term commitment.

In this dialogue, we have to make sure that our proposals are concrete, credible and well-grounded in conditions of our society. To reach these goals, we should create Institutes for Research on Nonviolent Conflict Resolution, open to all people from any background wanting to study the potential offered by nonviolence. And since the work would undeniably be for the "public good", it should be funded by public resources. There should be no revulsion against taking State funds for such research because, in a democracy, these funds belong to the citizens themselves.

As a second step, each social sector has to be examined in detail so as to identify methods of resistance which citizens could set in motion in their daily professional lives.

The military mobilisation of citizens -- only the male ones however -- forces them to leave their homes, families and children, and their work. Mobilisation for nonviolent civilian defence, however, includes both men and women, would take place in the local area, and would fall within the natural boundaries of their civic responsibilities. This mobilisation would not, as some fear, resemble a "nonviolent army": the combat units of nonviolent civilian defence are work units where citizens carry out their professional duties.

Provision would need to be made for the non-cooperation of functionaries faced with illegitimate orders from an illegitimate power. In other words, how to ensure that the functionaries would refuse to collaborate so that the administration would escape the authority of the aggressor and instead abide by the constitution of the democratic society.

Another issue that needs to be raised is parallel communication facilities. In the event of an occupation by a foreign army, a system that worked in peacetime would be sabotaged. It is irrational that only the army maintains an alternative form of communication in the event of a crisis. Political and civil societies should be perturbed by the existence of such clandestine communications systems.

To the extent that those in power give weight to our propositions for nonviolent civilian defence, to that same extent will it be easier to raise the subject at the level of civil society. Our propositions will then advance in a dialectical movement between the pressure from civil society and the backing of political society.

Translated by Philippa Edwards

Transitions to civilian-based defence

Gene Sharp

Gene Sharp is president of the Albert Einstein Institution in Boston, Massachussetts, and is the author of numerous books on nonviolence and civilian-based defence.

What are the more likely ways by which a shift from military-based defence to a civilian-based defence system might be actually implemented? That question is the focus of this paper.

By "civilian-based defence" is meant here a national defence policy to deter and defeat aggression, both internal (as coups d'état) and external (as invasions). This capacity is to be achieved by preparing the population and institutions for massive nonviolent resistance and defiance. Civilian-based defence is one specific application, out of various uses, of the general technique of nonviolent action, or nonviolent struggle.

"Transarmament" is the process of the changeover from military-based defence to civilian-based defence. This is projected as usually occurring by incrementally building up a nation's civilian-based defence capacity and then gradually phasing out its military defence capacity. "Transarmament" is contracted to "disarmament" which involves a simple reduction or abandonment of military capacity without providing a substitute means of defence.

An examination of how transitions from military-based defence to civilian-based defence might be possible is necessarily based on certain assumptions. These should be made explicit to make possible reasoned evaluation.

The assumptions underlying this paper include the following fifteen points:

1. It is more important to achieve a transition from military-based to civilian-based defence than either (a) to witness against the violence and oppression of the world without making an impact on it, or (b) to present a doctrinally-driven schema for comprehensive social change which is most likely to going to remain only that.

2. Society and the world cannot be changed both comprehensively and rapidly. Time and strategic steps are required.

3. Political violence, including war for defence, is not going to be developed without the prior development of an effective nonviolent substitute form of struggle and means of defence. Therefore, "disarmament" or repudiation of military means will not precede transarmament to civilian-based defence. Instead, military means can only be abandoned after civilian-based defence capacities and abilities to wage nonviolent struggle for other purposes are in place.

4. Civilian-based defence and nonviolent struggle can be effectively practised without a principled commitment to ethical or religious "nonviolence" or even without an acceptance of the view that substitute nonviolent sanctions are universally applicable.

5. The separation of nonviolent struggle from assertions that a certain ethical, religious or political position is a requirement for its sincere or effective practice is a pre-requisite for the widespread adoption of nonviolent struggle and for transarmament to a civilian-based defence. Nonviolent struggle has begun to escape from the ideological ghetto in which it has wrongly been placed by many critics and advocates alike. That separation of nonviolent struggle and civilian-based from identification with doctrinaire positions is already well underway, and attempts to restore a presumed connection between them could be disastrous.

6. "Human nature" does not need to be changed as a pre-condition for civilian-based defence.

7. A prior transformation of the international system is not required before adoption of civilian-based defence by individual countries or groups of countries.

8. A prior transformation or revolution of the social system is not a pre-requisite for the acceptance of civilian-based defence or a requirement for its viability.

9. The use of nonviolent struggle for liberation from a foreign yoke or domestic dictatorship, or for other purposes, does not lead to an easy, "natural" adoption of civilian-based defence. Instead, specific consideration, adoption, and preparations for civilian-based defence are required.

10. Civilian-based defence requires widespread acceptance and support from the society before it can be adopted and implemented effectively.

11. An identification of civilian-based defence as only related to, or compatible with, a particular political perspective or doctrine will seriously inhibit the policy's wider acceptance. However, there is nothing wrong with any political or cause group claiming that civilian-based defence is compatible with its own views, while allowing that the policy may also be compatible with the perspectives of other groups.

12. An identification of civilian-based defence with pacifism and anti-militarism will serve to alienate important potential support. Such identification will instead serve to cause the policy to be dismissed or opposed without fair evaluation. Specifically, no peace or pacifist group or radical political body should identify itself as the prime advocate of, or authority on, civilian-based defence.

13. A "trans-partisan" approach -- which seeks to achieve careful evaluation of civilian-based defence by people and groups of widely differing political views and attitudes to defence and past wars -- has the greatest opportunity to produce widespread acceptance of the potential viability of this policy and agreement to initiate steps toward its adoption. A trans-partisan approach would also aim at incorporating people holding various perspectives in support of the development and adoption of civilian-based defence

14. If the substance of a possible civilian-based defence policy is presented on the basis of its potential utility, such a policy might well receive widespread support across the political spectrum in a democratic society.

15. Effective civilian-based defence requires planning and preparations, and cannot be responsibly left to simple spontaneity. This is not to deny the usefulness of appropriate types of initiative and spontaneity within the context of clear strategic conceptions and planning.

On the basis of these assumptions and insights, one can conclude that in most cases (but not all), civilian-based defence could not be adapted quickly as a full substitute for military defence, whatever might be desirable. This is in part because of the time required for preparing the new policy, organising the transition, and achieving the needed popular and organisational support.

Therefore, in most situations, consideration of civilian-based defence and transarmament to it will necessarily be an incremental process of a series of limited steps. These will move toward increasing the role, importance, and scale of the civilian-based defence preparations. Indeed, excessively rapid, ill-prepared changeovers could result in unnecessary failures of civilian-based defence when it is applied. Those failures would unjustifiably help to discredit the whole policy.

In this incremental approach to transarmament, civilian-based defence would be adopted in a series of limited steps, and preparations and training would begin on a relatively modest basis, while the existing military policy is still in place. The civilian-based "components" could then be expanded in stages. Instead, therefore, of a single all-or-nothing decision on adopting the policy, there would be a series of sequential decisions on whether to take the next immediate step. This process would differ significantly from the more traditional "campaigns" or "movements" for or against policies.

The emphasis is the transarmament period ought not responsibly to be on abandoning military means but instead primarily on the increase in effective defence capacity through the development of the new civilian-based defence policy.

In all countries not subject to imminent attack, time is available for reasoned evaluation and decision about the new policy, and to research its capacities, dynamics, requirements, and strategic principles.

The steps in the incremental adoption of civilian-based defence will be of varying substance and duration. There is no blueprint of steps and time scale that is applicable to all countries and situations. In general, however, the following elements will be included in the process of transarmament:

research;
public education;
policy and feasibility studies;
evaluation by the public, private organisations, official institutions, defence departments and ministries, and legislatures;
introduction of a modest civilian-based component (perhaps for specific purposes);
preparing and training of the populace;
consideration of adding other purposes for which civilian-based defence may be utilised;
legislative and administrative action on these decisions;
strengthening the capacities of civilian-based defence; and
unification of the defence policy.

Major attention must be given to comparative analyses of the advantages and disadvantages, the capacities and incapacities, of military-based and civilian-based defences to meet security needs for the present and the foreseeable future.

No single model or policy consideration and partial or full transarmament can be created that will be applicable to all countries and situations. There are at least four general models:

1. Full, relatively rapid, adoption of civilian-based defence as the country's defence policy by small countries that at present have, or when independent will have, no viable military or alliance alternative because of some special situation or condition. Existing such countries might include Iceland and Costa Rica. Possible future such countries might include Palestine, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Armenia, Hong Kong, and Tibet. The initiatives for adopting civilian-based defence might come from the government or from the population and independent institutions of the society.

2. The addition of a civilian-based component to a predominantly military defence policy to serve one or more specific purposes with no intention to expand that component to play wider roles within the overall policy. Examples where this has already occurred include Sweden, Switzerland, Austria, and Yugoslavia. Countries which may add such a policy in the future include Norway and Finland, and the many countries which are vulnerable to coups d'état, such as Thailand, Chile, and Zambia. The civilian-based components might be intended for use (a) where military resistance is futile or suicidal; (b) where military resistance has failed; or (c) where internal usurpations are possible.

3. The phased introduction and gradual expansion of civilian-based defence elements with the objective of full transarmament. This is especially likely in countries whose military capacity, when compared to potential attackers, is so limited that they are incapable of serious military defence. Countries in such situations which also require effective external or internal defence include Poland, Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Mexico and Taiwan.

4. The negotiated, phased, multilateral transarmament of several neighbouring countries, simultaneously introducing civilian-based defence components, perhaps followed by a phased reduction of military weaponry. Transarmament by international negotiation might be arranged in Central Europe and Central America, for example.

Very little attention has been given to the applicability of civilian-based defence to present and potential superstates compared to the defence problems of small and medium-sized countries. These superstates include the USA, the Soviet Union, China, India, and potentially Brazil. The applicability of civilian-based defence to them depends in part on the assessment of the nature of these regimes and their objectives.

Most of the superstates have been clear aggressors against other countries, but that does not eliminate their own need for defence, externally and internally. Their own security problems are much simplified if their own militarily dependent allies (as NATO partners and Japan for the USA) could become self-reliant in defence through civilian-based defence.

All superstates would need defence against internal usurpations, as executive usurpations, coups d'état, "secret governments", and the like. Political democratisation and decentralisation in superstates could also be facilitated by a civilian-based defence policy.

Attention to the potential of civilian-based defence for very large countries is required, including the models of transarmament and corollary structural changes which might be required for maximum effectiveness.

In assessing how the changeover from military-based defence to civilian-based defence might best be handled, it is most important to recognise that the problem requires serious analysis and policy development. We are now at a stage of the development of nonviolent struggle and civilian-based defence where such analyses and policy studies are possible. We are also at a point internationally where we can project the project relevance of civilian-based defence for various countries. Rigorous attention is now required to the possibilities and models of transarmament for a considerable variety of countries and security situations.

Yugoslavia: the past and the future

Marko Hren

Marko Hren was active in the Ljubljana Peace Movement Working Group throughout the '80s and has recently been involved in setting up both a Centre for the Culture of Peace and Nonviolence and a Peace Research Institute. A member of the WRI Council, he initiated the campaign for Slovenia Without an Army.

The story of Yugoslavia begins after the Second World War. The army was established during the war. It was a revolutionary army almost exclusively connected to the Communist Party and the political system. We had a Holy Trinity of Army, Ideology and Political System. These three elements are closely interconnected: Communists in the Army, generals in the governments, and so on. The chief of all three units -- a general, president, and ideologist all in one -- was Tito.

We have a hierarchical structure and therefore good grounds for the militarisation of the political system and also of social life, of education and the media, etc. In 1949-50, Tito gave a historical "no" to Stalin, which means he gets in power for a couple of decades and Yugoslavia starts to redefine its way to socialism and so distinguish itself from other Eastern countries. Yugoslavian political leaders invent self-management and, together with Tito, the defence concept which is literally called "general people's defence civilian protection". This was abbreviated to SLONDS and implemented in every aspect of life in Yugoslavia. Each factory had a SLONDS unit, each community, sport organisation, cultural group, everywhere. The rules of the game were the same, just as the committees were the same. Within the Communist Party, within the political and decision-making bodies, each structure had a committee for SLONDS.

This concept, like self-management, was generally implemented at the same time everywhere in the country. Yugoslavia is a multi-state country, which has six states within the federation. We have a joke that Yugoslavia has seven neighbours, six republics, five languages, four nations, three religions, two alphabets and one party! Our religions range from Islam to Orthodox, our neighbours from NATO to neutral to Warsaw Pact. It is a rich variety. We have learned that one model cannot be applied to such a vast and varied rainbow. This is why self-management failed and why this concept of defence failed.

Another problem with this concept was that it was implemented from above and strictly within the State-Party framework. It was completely bureaucratised, with hundreds and hundreds of bureaux. You can imagine if each factory had its office! These SLONDS officials did nothing, of course, except run the bureaucracy. It was completely cut off from society. People could not identify with it.

The third problem was the worst: there was hierarchy, order, discipline -- all the values of the state. These committees were used as a control mechanism in many ways: a way to get information from people, a way to control them, to intervene in their lives if necessary. Finally, SLONDS had a role in the militarisation of society as a whole.

Some days ago Yugoslavia agreed to abolish all the SLONDS committees. These committees will be dismissed, they are now dead. The whole concept of defence will now have to be rethought. Yugoslavia is splitting up and the Communist Party has been dissolved. The exact definition Tito and others had, of a complementary combination of the people, together with the Army, defending the State.

Rather than using the word complementary we should accept the reality that these two concepts exist parallel to each other. They can cooperate at times, but they can also exclude each other.

I want to talk now about two parameters which I think exclude each other.

Military logic is defined by following parameters. It is state-based. Military defence applies to state borders. The military universe accepts the state and borders as relevant. It is something which presupposes, even demands, obeying society and therefore it requires centralisation. This implies subordination, which also implies a punishing policy. A hierarchical order is also basic parameter.

On the other hand, when we try to define the qualities of people's power, from which comes social defence, we find it community-based, civil society, based on people. Civil society by definition does not recognise state borders. The state may want to use military power as a defence concept, but civil society doesn't. We assume here a civil society where individuals are active, with a variety of differences, where pluralism is alive.

In the case of Yugoslavia the concept of general people's defence could not be implemented in the same way in Kosovo, where rural Albanian and patriarchal groups of people live, as in a Serbian shepherd village or in the city of Ljubljana.

We have two concepts here -- the military concept of separation and confrontation; the social defence concept of cooperation and communication. These qualities and parameters are very different. One we believe is slowly dying; the other we hope is gaining more life and can be implemented with strength and patience.

Now I think we in Slovenia have a good opportunity to abolish the army. It is a small country, relatively homogeneous and we can reach consensus on certain questions. When Slovenia gains more autonomy, it will be able to determine its own defence concept. In my opinion, for Slovenia to introduce its own army would be extremely provocative and provide an excuse for a nationalist war.

My friends and I are proposing that Slovenia, as a small new state, should develop a new defence policy -- an alternative security concept based on peace politics and incorporating social defence. We want help in deciding what parameters we must think about. Slovenia now has two options, to demilitarise or to have our own army.

Case studies of people's power

People Power: The Philippines

Maria Serena I Diokno

Maria Serena I Diokno is the executive director of the José W Diokno Foundation, a human rights organisation. As were most conference participants, she was heartened by the examples of nonviolent changes in Eastern Europe, but had a warning: the initial impulse of people's power must be organised and sustained if real change is to continue. Diokno was also sceptical about applying Western ideas about nonviolence and social defence to situations in the South.
Notes to the text:
19 February 1986: The United States Senate passes a resolution condemning the Philippine election as fraudulent.
22 February 1986: Defence Minister Juan Ponce Enrile and General Fidel Ramos announce withdrawal of support for Marcos and call for his resignation. With 300 soldiers they barricade the Ministry of Defence in Camp Aguinaldo and the Philippine Constabulary-Integrated National Police Headquarters in Camp Crame. Cardinal Sin appeals over Radio Veritas for people to bring food and lend moral support. Marcos' dictatorship is toppled after four days of people's power.
EDSA is the ten-lane Epifamio de los Santos Avenue, barricaded by tens of thousands of people to separate Marcos' troops from the rebel troops of Enrile and Ramos.

The nonviolent overthrow of Marcos in 1986 came from a combination of 10 years of peaceful struggle against the dictatorship. EDSA [scene of the people's victory; used here to refer to the nonviolent rising itself] is sometimes portrayed by Filipinos as isolated, distinct from other movements before it. This is a mistake. People don't just rise up ´like that,' just like we've heard from Eastern Europe.

The struggle took two forms: one, the underground violent movement conducted by the New People's Army, the armed component of the communist party. Then you have the broader, legal movement. It was organised around issues, one of the strongest of which was the human rights movement. This was understandable, given the dictatorial policies of the previous regime and Marcos' repression of civil liberties.

Then you had the organisation of what you might call social sectors: labour, farmers, the urban core (the squatters), students, women, the religious. 90 per cent of my people are Catholic so the Church has tremendous influence, socially and politically. This kind of organising had been going on during the dictatorship and it's important that you recognise that this had started even before the assassination of Senator Aquino. Benigno was assassinated in 1983. After this came the tremendous openness of the upper and middle classes, which had been very cautious before about joining any opposition against the dictatorship. But it was the social sectors that were the hardest hit by the dictatorship. They couldn't unionise or strike.

What happened in 1983 was not only the assassination of Aquino but also the recognition of the failure of the dictatorship's economic policies. For example, you'll find a greater participation on the part of private business in the opposition movement. Marcos' cronies were able to gain concessions in borrowing money. Even now they live like kings while our external debt rises tremendously. Marcos' intrusion into free enterprise caused the business sector to react. The value of our currency had dropped dramatically. We are completely dependant on exports for oil, so you can imagine how we were affected each time oil prices went up. On top of that, world prices for our largest export, sugar, dropped.

A combination of all these factors awakened people that the dictatorship had to go. Of course, the question was how do we remove the dictatorship. I must admit that at that time we never developed any kind of sophisticated social defence. Our view then, from the knowledge we had gained from the field, was that we wanted to exert militant, but nonviolent pressure. We were going to use all the peaceful methods we could to defy Marcos, undermine the confidence in him and hopefully even attract people who supported him to leave him. Late in 1985 when Marcos offered to hold elections and the opposition took it up, many of us thought this was a way to change through nonviolent means.

In 1984 he'd called elections for a rubber stamp parliament, which he totally controlled and which many of us had boycotted. So with the 1985 election there was again discussion. The organised opposition consisted of 1) politicians opposed to the dictatorship and 2) cause-oriented movements. Parties in the Philippines are traditionally built around personalities, not causes. In contrast, the movements had very clear causes, human rights for instance and rejection of US Government intervention in the Philippines.

The cause-oriented movement was split. Some felt the election wouldn't bring change and we had best boycott it. A larger number felt we should give it a try, that we could unite around Ms Aquino and get her to agree to some kind of social agenda. So the elections galvanised more people into action. On a personal note -- I foolishly volunteered to count the votes, and I went to the worst precinct. People were shooting at anything. This was in the heart of Manila, so you can imagine in less accessible areas the kind of intimidation that went on.

The peak of all this was Ms Aquino's call for civil disobedience after the election, because she realised that Marcos would not respect the outcome. The response to that call was also very positive. She named the crony companies and asked people to abstain from buying their products. The most difficult one was beer -- that was asking a lot! But some restaurants actually cancelled huge orders of beer.

EDSA originated as a military rebellion. This will help you understand why it has been so difficult for us to transform people's power into an avenue for change. A lot of this had to do with the role of the armed forces.

Minister Enrile, a defence minister who is now a senator in the upper chamber, and General Ramos heard that Marcos was about to arrest them. A year before EDSA, a group was formed within the armed forces which came to be known as RAM (the Reformed Armed Forces Movement) -- they were becoming more disenchanted with the way Marcos was running not only the military institutions, but the country. RAM is now the group behind the series of coup attempts against Ms Aquino. So you see a continuum behind that movement and now. In this context, it becomes clearer why EDSA didn't work the way we wanted.

The Aquino forces began to make contact with people in the opposition. Cardinal Sin generally had distanced himself from even human rights movements. Now he said via the radio that this group had staged a rebellion against Marcos and that we should go and protect them. And really that's what protected the military. If the civilians had not come out in numbers, it would have been easy for Marcos to deal with it as purely a military exercise. But people responded, they filled the streets, they stayed there and slept there for days. And it became very difficult for Marcos' tanks to run over people.

Even then, there were doubts about whether or not this action was wise. My father [Senator José Diokno], who was detained for two years during the dictatorship, refused to go when this happened in EDSA. There was a feeling that this was a military attempt to save their necks and the people were simply being used to cover that action.

In any case it went on.

There was a tremendous amount of religious symbolism in people's power. Cardinal Sin, lots of rosaries and lots of prayers. Nuns came in their habits, priests came. There was such a strong outpouring of religion that some called it the "miracle" of EDSA -- I disagree: in the end this robs the people of their part in EDSA.

Many people who took part in EDSA were unorganised, which gives you a view into why people's power hasn't worked. When people are unorganised it tends to be a one shot deal. You go into it, it works, you get Ms Aquino. There's only one problem; Marcos is out and each one goes back to their own work. There were some organised sectors, but since the movement was organised in Manila, the organised sectors outside Manila couldn't take part in EDSA. So you had a mix of organised and unorganised groups with one common motivation: to get Marcos out.

The tragic part is that beyond that, the people of EDSA couldn't agree on what they wanted. You had someone who was for agrarian reform sitting next to someone who would refuse to give up their land sitting next to someone who simply wanted US nuclear weapons and the bases out, next to someone who said we need the Americans! There was no clear, unified vision except to get Marcos out.

The attitude of the military is that they were the saviours of the country. That had it not been for their action, Marcos would have remained. And because they played a crucial role in his ousting, they must continue to play a crucial role in decision making. This is the biggest problem we've had -- how to ´depoliticise' the military, which was extremely politicised during the dictatorship and remains so. Cory was only the third option. The other two had to do with a military-civilian junta that would rule for, say a year, change Marcos' constitution and then call for national elections. Then they said they would step down and turn over power.

A real problem we faced was that these people who came out as heroes and saviours of the country were powerful during the dictatorship. General Ramos was head of the unit where most of the torturers came from.

It's something like in Argentina: when Alfonsín started to investigate some human rights violations by the military, coup attempts were made against him. Some powerful people insisted "Don't investigate human rights abuses and we'll let you off."

What kind of role have cause groups played play since EDSA?

They went into a lull. The overwhelming attitude was ´All right, let's give her a chance.' Ms Aquino came into power in February and by July there was a first coup attempt -- the one she quelled by punishing the perpetrators by making them do 65 pushups. We were of course upset. The group I work with wanted a statement issued condemning the coup and insisting that the government investigate it, but other groups said, ´don't rock the boat. If you issue a statement now you might be giving ammunition to the right wing.'

That was the first of seven coups and it turned out that everything we thought would happen, happened. Aquino didn't take the coup seriously. She was afraid of alienating the army and of losing her position. She forgot that it was the people who put her there! The military would have been massacred had it not been for the people.

I don't think Ramos wanted to punish his own people. He was afraid the military would split -- like it is split now. The psychology of the army is one of wanting to be on the winning side, even with the latest coup in December 1989. Testifying before the Senate Committee on Defence, the head of domestic intelligence said that about 70-80 per cent of the armed forces are fence sitters who will wait to see which side will win, and then shift. He was sacked because he said this so openly.

So we saw Aquino move farther and farther away from the social agenda she had promised during the elections. It also became increasingly difficult for organised movements to speak out against her because she was popular. She certainly wasn't Marcos and she kept saying she was responsible for getting him out.

I served in the government's peace foundation but resigned in January as a result of the 1987 Farmers March through the palace. The farmers marched through the palace and were met by marines and fired on. About 12 were killed and 90 injured. This took place at the time we were actually forming the International Democratic Front and all the press was there. So I quit in protest.

You mentioned that had it been just a military coup, Marcos would have suppressed it, but since it was the people demonstrating, he didn't act. In contrast, in Tiananmen Square there were really no such qualms on taking action. What was the difference?

Marcos knew he was a dictator but he couched everything in legal terms. He was also very conscious of his image abroad -- that counted more than his image at home; he even had his own press relations firm in New York City. In comparison, the government in China is not conscious of its image abroad.

Another factor was that he was so out of touch with the pulse of the people that he didn't realise how many people were out there. He was so crazy he imposed a curfew because everyone was out in the streets -- as if you could arrest everyone. Incidentally, that is a lesson which the RAM has now learned. They saw that Marcos' big mistake in EDSA was that he did not fire into the crowd. So this last time, they made sure they did that. Last December, the coup attempt was very bloody. They shot, they fired, they bombed. They made it very clear that they were willing to take violent steps, even if it meant killing civilians.

They put snipers in the posh area where all the banks and rich homes are. In the second part of the coup they shifted away from the camps and sent troops into this area. The very rich could see what it was like to feel the coup. They weren't firing indiscriminately, rather they fired at military men. But if there had been people's power at that time, civilians would have been killed.

Marcos couldn't afford to fire into a crowd. He portrayed himself as a man of democracy. The RAM people mean business, they carry firearms.

I'm struck by the image of nuns giving flowers to men in the military and the supposed change of heart and the contrast with Tiananmen Square.

I don't know if it would happen now if the military made a move against the government and the government called for people to come to the streets. In a very odd way, people were less polarised during the dictatorship because Marcos united us. Now we are extremely polarised. We can't talk about any issue, not even human rights, without being accused of being Communists.

I always say, "If Marcos had done this (a human rights violation, for example), you would have agreed it was wrong, so if it is being done now, why is it OK?" But they say if you complain about it now, you must be in favour of the New People's Army. And I say the NPA has nothing to do with it.

The NPA has committed excesses, but now for every human rights complaint against the military, you have to file one against the NPA to show you're balanced. It's that bad. I don't belong to the NPA; I don't pay for their guns. But my taxes go into those bullets the military uses. I helped put this government into power and they must be accountable. They don't understand this and think you are favouring the Communists.

The Catholic Church in the Philippines is divided. In the hierarchy, they are careful not to be critical of Aquino. Some may think it could contribute to her destabilisation; some may have other motives. But some are active in Christian base communities, as in Central America, and these too are accused of being Communist fronts. There has been persecution and killings since 1986. More human rights lawyers were killed in three years afterwards than during 14 years of the dictatorship.

This indicates one thing. It is not that Aquino is repressive, it's that she does not control the armed forces. Marcos did. And he used this. He would hit the people hard enough to frighten them, but not hit the people who really count. He was good at that because he was in control.

The Intifada

Andrew Rigand Nafez Assaily

The role of Palestinians in the Occupied Territories was traditionally seen as passive and longsuffering, according to Andrew Rigby of the School of Peace Studies at University of Bradford. During the mid-'70s, however, Palestinians began developing their own organisations within the Territories, such as trade unions, women's groups and youth groups. Nonetheless, the outbreak of the Intifada in 1987 took everyone by surprise. Rigby, author of Living the Intifada(Zed Press, forthcoming), and Nafez Assaily of the Palestinian Center for the Study of Nonviolence spoke at a session on the Intifada.

"The struggle is not nonviolent. I would use the term ´unarmed struggle'. They are not using lethal weapons, though they do use stones and molotov cocktails and inflict physical injury on Israeli soldiers. This choice to use unarmed struggle is made from good, pragmatic reasons not out of any principled commitment to nonviolence," said Rigby.

The first few months of the Intifada were disorganised, but a structure of organisation and coordination soon followed. Within a few months, a complex organisational structure developed based on popular committees and a unified command and with good communication with the outside leadership. A pattern also developed of neighbourhood committees. "This was, in a way, an attempt to set up the infrastructure of a Palestinian state. The most obvious public display -- that they were paying legitimacy and obedience to their own institutions rather than Israeli ones -- was the regular closing of shops each day by striking. This is of particular symbolic importance," says Rigby.

Palestinians have tried to break the links with Israel and to build a more self-reliant economy, but Rigby thinks the success has been very uneven: "There is an underground university and people are getting degrees, but very few. Emergency health care was established, including the development of a blood bank, which was particularly impressive. I think the health concerns now are longer term -- the care of people maimed physically and psychologically.

"I've heard people in Palestine talk about the future of the struggle and they talk about a horizontal escalation -- a spread of civil disobedience in society -- as intensifying it. But the leadership fear the escalation will be vertical, meaning the use of lethal weapons. This is a current debate. The longer they must struggle and suffer without the sense that there is some political progress, then the more frustration grows and so does the temptation to resort to lethal weapons among certain sectors of the population."

Nonetheless, Nafez Assaily of the Palestinian Center for the Study of Nonviolence believes that social defence can and has played a role in the Intifada. Assaily feels that it is important for the Palestinian people to study and gain as full an understanding as possible of the various social, economic, ideological and political forces, as well as the Jewish traditions underlying and driving the Israeli Occupation.

"The Israelis have used very wise methods," says Assaily. "They have tried to create gaps of misunderstanding at the family level. Most Palestinians are Muslims. We men are the power in the family. When I go with my family to Jericho, where there is nice weather in the winter, there is a permanent checkpoint where the Israeli soldiers will question me, humiliate me, give me orders, and abuse my feeling of power in my family. I will be upset and I'll go home still upset. I'll watch TV and read the paper and still be upset. If my son turns the channel on the TV or brushes my paper as he passes by, I'll find an excuse to beat him. In that way I can still show I have power. The child resists and says ´Remember what happened this afternoon -- you are no longer my protector.' My wife will be on his side. A division has then been created in the family.

"Fortunately this method didn't work. But the Israelis have other ways to create distrust within society. They create mistrust between the employee and his employer, between the shopkeeper and his clients, between two cousins, between student and teacher. Our society is like this: everyone is connected to each other.

"Sometimes they will take a man and ask him many questions, such as how many cousins he has. If he doesn't answer he could be put in jail for six months, for violating security rules. He'll find the question normal; he'll tell the soldiers the names of his cousins. Then they'll ask more specific questions about one of the cousins: if he's married, has kids, etc. They will allow the man to go. Afterwards they'll ask the cousin to come. They'll give him the information supplied by the man and they will say that he (the first man) is a good friend of theirs. He will mistrust his cousin from then on. Unfortunately for us, this works. They create mistrust and this is why the Intifada was born."

A well-coordinated and well-executed strategy must be developed by the Palestinians, based not only on Israeli spoken policy but also on their hidden agenda, says Assaily. "We must organise in a peaceful way and we must not give Israelis an excuse to use violent action.

"I live in the old city of Jerusalem. Once when I tried to enter the old city at 9.30pm some young Israeli soldiers stopped me and asked me to open the boot of my car. I did. They asked me to open the bonnet. I did. They asked me to take the back seat out. I did. This is all done for security purposes. They asked me to take off the right front wheel, and then the left, and so on, and I did whatever they asked. This continued until midnight. I obeyed them not because I'm a coward, but because I know the results: they are looking for any reason to put me in jail if they think I am an obstacle to security. Finally, they let me go.

"I didn't give them the excuse they were looking for. If I give them this excuse, they are achieving something: they have made me angry, which could result in a misunderstanding in my family. But I went home calmly and I slept.

"About 15 days later I came at approximately the same time to the same point. The same guards were there. They stopped me and recognised me. They know that I would not give them the excuse to take action, and respectfully they left me.

"I am not saying that I was brave or that I succeeded in defeating them. But I did make their injustice visible. Second, through my actions, I let them know that I strongly believe in nonviolence. And nonviolence in my country has a bad reputation."

If nonviolence has such a bad reputation, how then can you convince people to keep supporting it? There are two facts to keep in mind about nonviolence in Palestine, says Assaily. The first is that since Israel was established in 1948, the Israelis have tried very hard to achieve peace and security through force. They haven't succeeded. On the other hand, the Palestinians tried for 43 years to achieve their goals by armed struggle. They also haven't succeeded. So both armed struggles failed to achieve their goals. Now is the time for nonviolence and Palestinians have to encourage the Israelis to turn to nonviolence by using it themselves.

"The other fact is that for Israelis, no one can give them peace," says Assaily. "Only the Palestinians can give them peace. The US can give them money and weapons but not peace. And the only people who can give us peace are the Israelis. The Arabs can give us money and weapons, but they can not give us peace. We must act on these two facts. More nonviolence, more effectiveness."

There have been many examples of nonviolent resistance during the Intifada: daily strikes, boycotts of Israeli products, non-cooperation on all levels, demonstrations and marches, withholding taxes, the use of alternative institutions in place of Israeli ones, defying school closures, support for solidarity activities, special days of fasting and praying, blocking roads into Israeli settlements, ostracising Palestinian informants, and the controlling of time by advancing Palestinian clocks one hour.

Assaily provided a further explanation of these methods:

Conducting strikes: The Israelis are doing their best to break the strikes which have been going on, even before the Intifada began. They went to the houses of the bigger merchants and forced them to open in the mornings. They broke the doors of the shops. But the Palestinians didn't fight. So the Israelis didn't do anything more to break the strikes -- they realised the futility of their strike-breaking efforts. This means we gained recognition and legitimacy for strikes as a nonviolent method to say no to the occupation. With the exception of emergency vehicles and necessary services such as pharmacies and bakeries, strikes involve the total non-movement of vehicles and the complete shut-down of commercial and educational activities. These strikes affect everyone.

Noncooperation on all levels and demonstrations: What has been until now a limited refusal by Palestinians to cooperate with the Israeli Occupation authorities must become a widespread defiance of unjust Israeli orders. Not only must Palestinians act in unison in disobeying the Israelis, but they must reinforce their solidarity, their social defence, by holding massive demonstrations in support of, for example, those arrested for refusing to obey orders. In the past, Palestinian youths burned tyres, threw stones and set up road blocks. Now they must be joined by other vulnerable segments of society, such as the blind and those who have been disabled during the Intifada. Palestinians must engage in new, nonviolent protest such as public prayers, silent marches, symbolic funerals, offering Israelis flowers to say "goodbye" not "welcome" and wearing some uniform sign on their clothing to indicate Palestinian solidarity. Such tactics will not harm the Israelis physically, but will hurt them much more than petrol bombs.

Using alternative institutions: Palestinian Popular Committees, created to replace Israeli institutions, provide the Palestinian community with educational, medical, agricultural and other social services. The Israelis, who viewed the committee as a threat, decreed that membership in a committee was a crime punishable by ten years in jail. To circumvent this law, Palestinians work through existing legal organisations, such as the international Scout movement, whose bye-laws require that Scouts everywhere help all people in all situations.

Defying school closures: Our education is under Israeli control. That means we don't have a single line or page of our history in the history and geography books. As a result, our children can't learn about their problems, their people, their rich Palestinian heritage. When the Israeli Occupation authorities closed all schools in the Occupied Territories, this affected all ages -- from the early grades up to the university level. However, because of the school closures, the Palestinians have developed, for the first time in their history, a curriculum of their very own. Teachers, who have joined Scout societies, teach students in the tents of Scout camps, and there are other creative ways which can be developed. Many see this as a positive effect of the closures. As Palestinians learn their own history and heritage, a cohesiveness develops, helping create a strong social defence.

Supporting solidarity activities: This involves social and moral support for those who have been injured or imprisoned, and publicising their stories as much as possible. There is also economic support by boycotting employment in Israel. Those unemployed as a result of the boycott, can help Palestinian villagers plant and harvest crops and work on land reclamation projects. Such community outreach can strengthen the Intifada's social defence. Another aspect of the vitally important economic support is that the Intifada exists solely through the efforts of those living within the Occupied Territories. We refuse financial support form outside the Territories, that is, from the Arab World. The Intifada will be free of charges that it is being manipulated by, or is a tool of, anyone other than the people of Palestine.

Blocking roads into Israeli settlements: Instead of using stones to block the roads into Israeli settlements, the Intifada can send an unmistakable message of commitment to the Israelis and the world by tens of thousands of Palestinians lying across the roads, using their bodies as roadblocks. A number of things can be accomplished simultaneously by this. First, it would be a dramatic confrontation between the Israeli army and the Palestinians. Second, it would be a staggering cost increase, if all one and a half million Palestinians had to be arrested, transported, detained, fed and processed in Israeli jails.

Controlling Palestinian time: Palestinians advance their clocks forward an hour in the spring one month before the Israelis advance their clocks, and in the autumn turn back their clocks one month before the Israelis. In effect, this is sending a message to the Israelis that we are the masters of our country. We are deciding for ourselves when to sleep, when to wake up, when to eat, and when to open and close our shops.

"Yet another way of resistance and solidarity could be the holding of Palestinian curfews," continues Assaily. "Israeli patrols use a loudspeaker to announce curfews, and the streets have to be emptied. They are not the only ones who can call a curfew. Since the Declaration of the State of Israel states that non-Jews have the right to practise their religion freely, Palestinians can call their own curfews and use this time as a call to prayer and fasting in the privacy of their own homes.

"Another tactic could be crying and wailing. The Israelis have built tent cities near Palestinian areas. They have also settled in such Palestinian communities as the Casbah in Hebron and the Old City of Jerusalem. Palestinian women and children could cry and wail loudly, preventing the Israelis from sleeping. There is no law against crying and wailing!"

In addition to all these methods of resistance, what is also important to remember, according to Assaily, is that, "The effectiveness of nonviolent forms of Intifada must be taught and understood and practised in all situations. There must be an ongoing commitment to the Intifada, a full-time, total commitment to ending the Occupation, not just a series of sporadic, isolated acts."

Changing enemy images also plays an important role. Assaily said,"If you ask an Israeli what they think of Palestinians, the first thing they'll say, without thinking, is ´they are terrorists.' If you ask a Palestinian what he thinks of an Israeli, he'll say, without thinking, ´they are murderers.' We must change this through education. I took my son to see a kibbutz so he could see the good side of the Israelis. My son saw the kindergarten with swings, slides, etc. He climbed up the slide and shouted out, ´The voice of the Intifada is stronger than the Occupation!' I told him to be quiet, that we were now in Israel. ´But I don't see any soldiers,' he said. That to him is what Israel is. It was time to show him the good side of Israel.

"If the Palestinian state is established in nonviolence, then it will continue in nonviolence. Israel was established by force and it continues with force. I want us to learn from their mistakes.

"Finally, and most importantly, Palestinians must approach the Israelis with the Palestinian flag raised in one hand and the other hand extended to the Israelis to show our willingness to shake hands and let the Israelis leave the Occupied Territories with their dignity intact."

Czechoslovakia's nonviolent revolution

Jan Kavan, Ruth Sormova, and Michaela Neubauerova

Of all the incredible events that took place during 1989 in Eastern Europe, perhaps the revolution in Czechoslovakia was the most amazing. Vaclav Havel, former dissident and now President of Czechoslovakia, described the Velvet Revolution as "a revolution where not a single window was broken." Three Czechs came to the Bradford conference to discuss the use of nonviolence in Czechoslovakia's struggle and in its subsequent revolution. Ruth Sormova is a member of the Independent Peace Association and now holds a seat in the parliament. Michaela Neubauerova works with Civic Forum. Jan Kavan left Czechoslovakia in 1968 to study in London. There he continued to be a key member of the democratic opposition, publishing material under the Palach Press imprint and smuggling it into Czechoslovakia. After the revolution, he returned to Prague where he now represents Civic Forum in parliament.

Ruth Sormova: In 1987 and '88, a number of groups came into being. Many were closely connected with Charta 77 which was already 11 years old. All dealt with human rights issues, not only due to personal experience with their violation, but primarily because fundamental human rights were seen as a basis.

On the other hand, many people felt it would be a good idea to form some smaller groups apart from Charta 77 with their own specific goals. One such group was the Independent Peace Association (IPA) which appeared in Spring 1988, IPA was a type of citizens' group which realised the necessity of peace initiatives which wouldn't be eliminated by any state structures or organisations. Apart from the fact that IPA was the first peace group of a "different kind", I feel that it brought an important aspect to Czech independent movements as a whole. We tried to make our activities as public as possible.

In August 1988, the first big demonstration took place in Prague and later on we tried to organise public discussion meetings. Although most of these meetings were broken up by the police, people began to realise that they could be involved and that it was worthwhile. It is significant that violence never came from the side of the people, although those in power tried to make Charta 77 and other activists equal to terrorists.

The representatives of the state power were the only ones who used violence. Sometimes it was quite hard [to be be subjected to this violence] but I feel this really helped convince people that if something positive were to be achieved, it was necessary to use nonviolent means.

As expected, the appearance of IPA and other groups was suppressed by the state. Some were imprisoned. Others subjected to all kinds of persecution. Such state of affairs made it impossible to launch an open social dialogue. On the other hand, it helped bring different groups in the independent movements closer together. Now the situation is different and Czechoslovakia is confronted with how and where to we find something we have in common for the future.

Michaela Neubauerova: Our revolution has several peaceful attributes. I think when one hears the word "revolution", one thinks of something violent. I think the atmosphere of those days [during November and December] surprised most people because it could have been really violent.

17 November was when the peaceful demonstration by students was broken up by the police and this was done even more brutally than all the previous demonstrations. The students couldn't understand why there were still police who would act against completely defenceless people participating in a peaceful demonstration for human rights, freedom of speech, and so forth. On one side were students singing songs and passing candles or flowers to people on the other side. The people on the other side were of approximately the same age but were wearing helmets and carrying shields, ready to beat them.

How was it possible that two groups of people living in the same country, belonging to the same generation, could be so different? Their values were different even if both wanted to live quietly in a nice country. The first group, the police, defended everything that happened from the political scene as though it was all right. Even if they sometimes didn't agree with it, they supported it, and did so actively by persecuting people who dared to disagree. As a result, the country was really quiet -- but this was the silence before the storm. The other groups started to realise that all their values were locked up by the regime. This regime, even though it was endlessly talking about human rights, was completely unable to change its substance or its totalitarian character.

This demonstration in November was the first one, with a few individual exceptions, where passive resistance was used. As I look at it now, it was very effective and it significantly influenced [the use of] nonviolence for the whole revolution. During the following two days people were deciding about their future. They could have just left the matter as had been done several times before, but this time, they decided to take the risk and fight. During these two days Civic Forum was established, mostly by people who were previously active in independent movements. Strike committees were formed along with Public Against Violence, which is the parallel to Civic Forum in the Slovak republic.

At the beginning of the week, new demonstrations took place at Wenceslas Square, and more and more people joined. The police squads were threatening to suppress the demonstration, as they had done so many times before. During the days that followed, demonstrations took place in other parts of the country. Vaclav Havel, other representatives of Civic Forum, students, workers, and strike committees started negotiations with the government. They were, naturally, hard times. One day, a people's militia gathered around Prague. No one knew what they would do. [The threat of] violence was very close at that time.

One very important event was the massive demonstration that took place on 26 November. About one million people participated. It was also a turning point for our movement, especially in the countryside. The situation in the small towns was quite clear. People in the country were still hesitating. These demonstrations convinced them it was worth participating. It was necessary to show them that the ideas of revolution were constructive, that it was really something better than the old regime, that we could and we wanted to be better. Because violence can never be constructive, it was very important to stress the necessity of nonviolence during the whole process. Violence from our side would only justify violence from the state power. We wouldn't give them that chance.

The atmosphere of the demonstration was very special and completely new for many of us. One thing that increased the value of these nonviolent demonstrations was that people participating overcame their hatred. They were able to listen to a policeman who was a participant in the 17 November action and they even appreciated his expressing [his views] of what would happen, although he was a symbol of state power and persecution.

After this weekend, the general strike followed. Still the communists were trying to persuade the people that the leaders of the opposition were very irresponsible, that they were acting out of selfish interest and that a general strike could destroy our economy. The negotiations with the government brought in a new government, but it still consisted of ten communists and five members of other parties and non-party members. Obviously, the Communist leaders still wanted to keep power. They were forced to make some changes, which they did, however, they severely underestimated the situation. A new demonstration came and on 10 December, a so-called Government Commission of Understanding was named.

The opposition came from former dissident circles, consisting mostly of intellectual groups. People leading the movement were recruited from independent movements, especially from Charta 77, and peace and environmental groups which had been established during the past few years. I think without this, the revolution wouldn't have happened. These personalities heavily influenced how the revolution happened. They were, of course, in a difficult position because they were handicapped by communist propaganda.

The only way to attract the common people was to be as open as possible. The groups participating at the beginning of the revolution were mostly students, actors, and people from the arts. Students are generally the most critical part of the population, and specifically for our country because they were the only ones who didn't carry the burden of failure of 1968.

Jan Kavan: In order to discuss some of the problems we are now facing in Czechoslovakia, I must return to the period before the revolution. I would also like to talk briefly about the role civil society played then, as well as its continued need now.

There seems to be a number of parallels in the pre- and post-revolution situation. Before the revolution, we talked about the need to democratise the existing institutions from below at a time when we believed one might have to combine some radical reformism with a more direct revolutionary approach. In the long period leading up to the revolution, some very rudimentary reforms of civil society had emerged. A kind of imperceptible, rather internal society, has been in the making for quite some time. We've been in close cooperation with our Polish revolutionary friends since the mid-'70s. We've realised, on a smaller scale than in Poland, that some of our parallel forms of society -- be they in printing, theatre, underground, or university -- were similar, if not identical.

The system tried to absorb some forms of civil society into the structures of the state. The failure to do that was one of the catalysts that led to the emergence of a number of independent groups and the atmosphere which precipitated the revolution. If you look at the different independent groups, from IPA to to some of the more cultural groups, they all share a common denominator. They rejected all forms of Communism and the encompassing domination by the party in all its institutional forms. They subscribed to what has been called "solidarity of the shaken", or solidarity of the oppressed. They built certain informal mechanisms for self protection.

The goal was not so much to gain political power. The goal of many activists was to drive the system out of their personal lives, to promote traditional values such as respect for other individuals, the dignity of the individual, and democratic self-determination, and slowly to prepare conditions for the emergence of democratic, pluralistic self-organising civil society which by its existence would limit political power.

There is yet one more thing to keep in mind when discussing Czechoslovakia and East Germany -- to a certain extent in isolation of each other. I would like to draw attention not only to the various domino theories as to which country precipitated changes in the others, but also to the fact that long before 1989 there was an increasingly closer cooperation between the activists in independent groups across the East European borders. Some were directly meeting on the borders such as our Czech and Polish friends, some via London (Hungarians, Czechs, Poles), and in this way issued joint political statements. For example, on the 30th anniversary of the Hungarian Revolution, a discussion was started about the political principles common to all the different independent groups in East Germany, Czechoslovakia, Poland, Hungary, and to a certain extent, Yugoslavia.

This kind of solidarity cannot be underestimated. I remember once trying to persuade a leading journalist from one of the British daily papers to publish a brief communiqué about an important meeting on the Polish-Czechoslovak border. He told me I was wasting my time because the British public wasn't interested in these items which aren't seen as being newsworthy. "These people only meet with each other and correspond in order to give each other a kind of moral slap on the shoulder, to encourage each other to survive. Sure, they are courageous and one should respect them, but it's not newsworthy because they will never get to power." Yet, we were talking about a meeting which was attended by Vaclav Havel, Adam Michnik, Jacek Kuron and others who are now fairly close to power.

Early in November 1989 I was invited to a seminar in Wroclaw, Poland, to introduce Czechoslovakian independent culture to our Polish friends. There were many who were taken aback by the widespread solidarity that many Poles showed us in Wroclaw, especially at concerts given by independent Czech musicians. They felt partly undeserving, that this solidarity could never be repaid to the thousands of young Poles. This was just a few weeks before our revolution. Nevertheless, I do believe that even the Wroclaw seminar and the impact it had on civil society and the young Czechs -- who were able to smuggle themselves across the border to avoid the police checks -- were one of several catalysts which brought about the change.

The revolution was, to a large extent, carried out thanks to the immediate political aftermath following the students' demonstrations from the June massacre, the first mass demonstrations afterwards, and the many activists who quickly united, including the dissidents from Charta 77 and other independent groups. They've created what is now the Civic Forum. Civic Forum, along with help from public pressure, successfully negotiated change.

What we in Czechoslovakia still need after the revolution is a movement which is responsive to needs for autonomy and optimal participation. A few years ago Adam Michnik explained the "philosophy of political compromise" -- the need to explore aspects of social change which would be acceptable to both the political elite and to the independent groups which wanted greater autonomy and political influence -- to us. It seems to me that this need for a political compromise is still necessary.

What we now have is two Civic Forums. On the one hand, there is the Civic Forum which is an attempt to maintain an informal movement as an association of politically active people who are trying to inspire as wide of public activity as possible and therefore trying to influence the state of public affairs. On the other hand, we have what I would call a political elite which formed shortly after the negotiations at the round table. Of course, since then, some of the persons have changed and have become members of government, parliamentarians, president, and so forth. Nevertheless, the concept has remained that the inner council of the Civic Forum is a kind of new political élite with its hands on the power.

I remain optimistic for many of the same reasons I was optimistic before the revolution. For one thing, the civil society structures have not been dismantled, and cannot be dismantled. People are still aware of the power of social pressure, of the ability to self-organise and to try to take public affairs into their own hands.

In the constitution of Civic Forum there is a beautiful sentence which describes one of goals of the Forum as "to create self-managed democratic institutions and mechanisms enabling the participation of citizens in public affairs." I still think that's the goal of the movement, but at the moment, part of the political elite is closing the door to its own past. Now they are taking the Forum into what I call a blind alley. Again, it is understandable. It was created as a kind of negative consensus against a totalitarian power. But it is now necessary to create a positive consensus based on a joint effort to continue the democratisation of society, to introduce some principles of market economy, political pluralism, and I hope also a principle called justice.

In conclusion, it seems to me that the role of civil resistance in the protest of political and social change will be diminished after the revolution. It will be replaced not only by more traditional politics, but by different points of social defence. Social defence will try to use the informal structures of civil society to defend, for example, the independent trade unions, or rights of the worker, principles of a participatory democracy, political rights, and a need for greater openness.

Civic Forum needs to be a movement, as opposed to perhaps slowly emerging as a political party; although, I think this will probably happen after the elections. Parties don't need to be so open to the public, except to a certain extent to their members, but not to the public, as such. I do believe that movements do and that civil society structures can insure that. I think the principles of active citizenship both guarantee forms of nonviolent change and take away the danger of military confrontation. To me, it is also a guarantee that eventually the main political goals of the movement and of the revolution will be reached -- to create a democratic society which will respect the dignity of the people and their views, and will encourage wide participation.

It is necessary to keep the civil society movement active so that Czechoslovakia does not slip back into totalitarianism, so that we do not simply trade one group in power with another. To keep all forms of power in check we must make use of public activity combined with a free press and with a legally guaranteed access to media.

I keep stressing the role of civil society because I frequently meet people, in Eastern Europe but especially in the West, that believe that once we carried out the revolution and got rid of the Communist Party, everything has now been resolved. Now all we need to do is get a market economy and copy some Western institutions, and everything will be fine. I'm trying to gently suggest that the problem is much more complex. The long term success of the revolution depends very much on the continuation of civil society, a civil society which has been greatly enriched by its experiences.

[note, June 1991: Civic Forum is now split into competing parties, but continues to exist as an umbrella organisation. Jan Kavan is fighting to clear his name of charges -- made in parliament -- that he was a secret police contact in 1969-70 during his London exile.]

Nonviolent people's struggles in India

Narayan Desai

Narayan Desai has had a long experience with nonviolence -- his father was Gandhi's personal secretary, and Narayan was raised in Gandhi's ashram. Narayan lives at his own ashram, the Institute for Total Revolution, and at the time of conference was Chair of War Resisters' International. In his opening address to the Conference, he analysed four contemporary examples of Indian nonviolence.

I will talk about four recent cases of people's power and nonviolent action. Two can be considered successful, or at least immediate successes.

The first case is from Baliapal, on the eastern coast of India, in the state of Orissa. Baliapal, which has been described as the granary of Orissa, was selected by the central government to have a missile base. Many people are surprised to hear that India is planning missile bases, but this has been going on for a long time. I chose this case in particular because it is entirely people's power which has prevented the base from functioning, and at last the government has abandoned the idea of a missile base there. We aren't yet sure if there won't be missiles somewhere else, but still people succeeded in preventing it at Baliapal.

This happened for many reasons. Baliapal is a lush area which produces rice, coconuts, vegetables that feed Calcutta and many other places. The whole population was to be evicted for the missile base, and the people decided that they would resist. The whole movement against the missiles was organised spontaneously. When I tried to find out who was the leader, I could not, because there wasn't one. But we know of many people who were involved, such as a school teacher who had lost his wife. He said to himself, I am in grief, but my area -- and he called it my land -- is in greater grief, so let me sing about this greater grief in order to forget my personal grief. And his songs are sung in hundreds of villages. They are very simple songs, but they have spread throughout. He was only one example, there were many others spread all over the area.

All they did was very simple. They did not allow any government officers to enter the whole area of several hundred square kilometres. The people created physical or human barriers and kept vigil day and night. Except for teachers, who were government officials, the authorities were not allowed to enter the area at all. Teachers were allowed in: they talked about what was going on and were on the side of the people. The government took a whole battalion of soldiers around the area, but the men, women and children continued their vigil with songs, and people's theatre. People kept watch in tree tops and blew conch shells or rang brass bells to warn others if they saw a jeep or other vehicle coming. Then people would come in their thousands and surround the area. The campaign succeeded so well that they have toppled the government there, and the local government is now ruled by a party that has openly supported the opposition.

The second case is also from Orissa, in a forest region near a hill called Gandhamadan. A private company intended to clear the forest in order to construct a monstrous aluminium factory on the hill. This would have meant denuding the hill, depriving the tribal people there of forest wood, food and medicinal plants. The people created barriers at strategic points of entry into the forest and prevented any of the company's vehicles from entering the area for months. There was only one pass on the hill, so it was easy to block the passage, which was done every day for more than two years. The company decided to shift the proposed factory to another site.

The third case is a general case, related to the anti-nuclear power movement in India. There have been people's demonstrations against proposed nuclear power plants in Kakrapar in Gujarat, in Kaiga in Karnataka, in Tamilnadu, Kerala and Uttar Pradesh, where the struggles are still going on. Here the people have been mobilised by educational programmes, grassroots organisations and demonstrations. In the case of Kakrapar, in Gujarat where I am from, there have been occasional demonstrations with intense, provocative reprisals by the administration. There has been one case of stone-throwing and sabotage by the people in the course of five years of peaceful struggle. The struggle is still going on and victory does not seem around the corner.

The fourth case is connected with two big dams on the river Narmada, which passes through three states in central and western India. It is one of the larger rivers in India and, as all rivers in India, is considered holy. The tribal people who are threatened with evict

Contents