To get involved or not: do we keep walking?
Westfield News for Students, Weekly Reflection Column by John Clancy, student representative (Westfield University)
I will never forget the incident of Christopher Hudson, a member of the Hells Angels Motorcycle Club, who in 2007, was aggressively dragging his girlfriend, Kara Douglas, by the hair down Flinders Lane. Melbourne solicitor Brendan Keilar and 25 year old Dutch backpacker Paul de Waard attempted to assist Douglas. Hudson pulled out a gun and shot all three. Keilar was fatally wounded. De Waard returned to the Netherlands and revealed in a television interview a year later that he was still undergoing extensive rehabilitation.
I couldn’t help thinking, what if that had been my father? In the blink of an eye, Brendan Keilar’s family was left rudderless; they were left only with their memories of a courageous and amazing father. I think I would have been extremely angry if my father had sacrificed his life to save people involved in criminal activities. But on the spur of the moment, many individuals instinctively act in honourable ways.
So it is worth it? Was the price too high?
Evidently when people are faced with a crisis they may also be faced with a problem. Instinctively, our first reactions are to help those in situations of distress. As former South African Arch-bishop, Desmond Tutu, reminds us, “if you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.” In other words, we have a moral obligation to become involved in the welfare and injustice of another. However, what if this places our own life unreasonably in danger? Sometimes, too, our meddling may inflame the crisis.
I often grapple with these questions whenever I read stories of people putting their life on the line. These stories do strike at the heart of our humanity. As the Anglo-English statesman, Edmund Burke said, all it takes for evil to triumph is for good people to do nothing.
Recently, I have been researching stories of whistleblowers as part of an assignment for politics and history. Whisteblowing often has very damaging repercussions for the individual, but can make a big impact on the community. Exposing injustice can lead to significant changes.
Just take the ongoing controversy surrounding Edward Snowden or Chelsea Manning. Often such individuals pay a heavy price. But they believe it is necessary to get involved because the welfare and the civil rights of others depend upon it.
Lawrence Moepi, a principled South African auditor, was shot and killed. He had been investigating several suspected corruption cases, including a notorious arms deal.
Recently, Westfield University’s Political student unit organised a series of talks focussing on people during times of crisis. In the wake of the current wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, General John Cantwell gave a speech as did Professor Street who referred to Graham Green’s anti-war novel, The Quiet American which was published in 1955. Although it draws upon events of the French Indochina war from 1951 to 1954 in Vietnam, there are striking parallels with the current wars.
On one level, Professor Street said Alden Pyle was in some ways a true compatriot, spreading democracy and ensuring that the seamstresses had plenty of power to work their way out of poverty. Very noble and very involved. As an undercover CIA agent, the pressure he endured was choosing which Generals to support to prevent the spread of communism and to bring to life York Harding’s belief. But as Professor Street asks, at what cost? Whilst Pyle acts with seemingly good intentions, he acts on the belief that the ends justify the means. He becomes preoccupied with “mental concepts” and is convinced that democracy will “save” Vietnam. Pyle’s determination to “do good not to any individual person, but a country, a continent, a world” coupled with his strong belief in “the responsibilities of the West” were enough justification for him to spread the ideology of a Third Force in Vietnam, regardless of the means through which this is achieved. Ultimately, Pyle’s core values of “isms and ocracies” are demonstrated but Green questions whether they are truly honourable.
Contrastingly, Professor Street pointed out that Greene’s most important points focussed on Thomas Fowler. His actions shows that we are damned if we do and damned if we don’t.
Whilst Fowler springs to the aid of the victims of indiscriminate violence in Vietnam, he nevertheless is anxious about his decisions. Throughout the novel, Fowler claims to be an unyieldingly degage. He will not involve himself in the clash of ideologies that surrounds him; rather, he will merely report upon it. In witnessing the deaths of so many innocents in a street bombing Fowler abandons his previous ideals and follows his conscience. The images of the woman holding what was left of her baby in her lap and the trishaw driver’s torso make moral demands on Fowler. Armed with General Heng’s advice that, “one must take sides, if one is to remain human,” Fowler acts upon his instincts to prevent further destruction. But he becomes the meddler he despises when he has his friend, and love rival, Pyle, eliminated.
However, as Green shows, we must get involved, because as Desmond Tutu said ‘to remain silent is to take the side of the oppressor’. Often in situations of conflict we must take a side in order to remain human.
For this reason, I admire the work of many outspoken community leaders who show us what it is to be human. Many of these leaders pay a heavy price for taking a principled stance. Just take one of our local priests, Father Greg Reynolds, who was recently defrocked by the Catholic Church. I remember once he gave a sermon in the St Marys Church in Westfields. He reminds me of the courageous stance taken by the Ugandan priest, Father Musala, who raised the alarm about rampant sex abuse in the Catholic Church in Uganda; he was sacked and accused of being gay. Of course, being gay in Uganda can lead to the death penalty.
And a final note. Whether we do or don’t get involved, we should all remember the famous poem by Martin Niemoller, the prominent Protestant pastor, who emerged as an outspoken public enemy of Adolf Hitler.
First they came for the (Communists) Socialists, and I did not speak out–
Because I was not a Socialist. …. Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out–
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out–
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me–and there was no one left to speak for me.
Prompt: It is difficult to remain as a bystander in any situation of conflict
By June Crangton, (work experience student at Ballark News)
Last year, Ballark mother of four, Janie Coles bravely stopped her car in Clement Street to offer assistance to Leon Youl and was stabbed for her trouble. Courageously, but instinctively, Janie’s first reaction to the stricken Youl, who seemed to have fallen from his motorbike, was to stop and help. As Janie approached the car, Youl stabbed her, grabbed her wallet and fled. Janie eventually recovered in Ballark Hospital but clearly remains physically and mentally scarred. Would she help again? She has her doubts.
Stories like Janie’s make us reflect upon whether we should rush to the aid of another. What if our life is endangered? What if we have others in our care? Sometimes we must ask whether the price is simply too high. Or do we heed Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s advice that “we have a duty to be bothered by the suffering of others”.
Janie’s is just one of many stories I have been researching as part of my work experience at the Ballark News, which is running a series of articles focussed on the reactions of people during times of crisis. So far, I have uncovered many stories of heroes like Janie’s, as well as some interesting stories of returned war troopers, many of whom, like Janie, have links to our local community. Most of the stories show that it is indeed difficult to remain a bystander when someone is in distress. At the same time, sometimes we must remain neutral.
Trooper Tom Williams’ parents are Ballark locals, who, during the past year, have lived every day hoping that their son returns alive from the war in Iraq. He did, but paid a heavy price. You may remember the story that our news editor wrote last year on Tom and his parents. They said they will never forget how their son changed in just three short months during the escalation of the war in Iraq. On one day, his friend was injured in an IED blast. The next day, he was traumatised by explosions. The next day, insurgents sneaked up on his camp in a cornfield. AS Tom himself said in one his letters to his parents, ”I went from gung-ho to scared shitless to back to normal in three days, but it changed things,” he says. His attitude shifted. ”The fight for survival takes over everything. The compassion starts to slip. Trust between you and the people you’re supposed to help fades away.” He nevertheless kept on with the mission. To come home was not an option.
Likewise, Tom drew strength from his office-in-charge, Kyle Tyrrell, who often shared his emotions with his men. Although his purpose like everyone else’s was to stay alive, he also had to make sure that everyone else stayed alive. He said, “it’s probably the most beautiful thing that you can get – you are helping another person stay alive.”
Evidently, becoming involved for these men was a foregone conclusion. But it was not easy.
During my research, I attended a series of lectures held at Ballark Library focussed on war literature. In the wake of the current wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, General John Cantwell gave a speech as did Professor Street who referred to Graham Green’s anti-war novel, The Quiet American which was published in 1955. Although it draws upon events of the French Indochina war from 1951 to 1954 in Vietnam, there are amazing parallels with the current wars.
On one level, Professor Street said Alden Pyle was in some ways a true compatriot, spreading democracy and ensuring that the seamstresses had plenty of power to work their way out of poverty. Very noble. As an undercover CIA agent, the pressure he endured was choosing which Generals to support to prevent the spread of communism and to bring to life York Harding’s belief. But as Professor Street asks, at what cost? Whilst Pyle acts with seemingly good intentions, he acts on the belief that the ends justify the means. He becomes preoccupied with “mental concepts” and is convinced that democracy will “save” Vietnam. Pyle’s determination to “do good not to any individual person, but a country, a continent, a world” coupled with his strong belief in “the responsibilities of the West” were enough justification for him to spread the ideology of a Third Force in Vietnam, regardless of the means through which this is achieved. Ultimately, Pyle’s core values of “isms and ocracies” are demonstrated but Green questions whether they are truly honourable.
Whilst Fowler springs to the aid of the victims of indiscriminate violence in Vietnam, he nevertheless is anxious about his decisions. Throughout the novel, Fowler claims to be an unyieldingly degage. He will not involve himself in the clash of ideologies that surrounds him; rather, he will merely report upon it. In witnessing the deaths of so many innocents in a street bombing Fowler abandons his previous ideals and follows his conscience. The images of the woman holding what was left of her baby in her lap and the trishaw driver’s torso make moral demands on Fowler. Armed with General Heng’s advice that, “one must take sides, if one is to remain human,” Fowler acts upon his instincts to prevent further destruction. But he becomes the meddler he despises when he has his friend, and love rival, Pyle, eliminated.
Finally, let us remember the comments by crown prosecutor Kieran Gilligan who said on sentencing Leon Youl: ‘This type of conduct tears at the fabric of society in that members of the community may be less willing to offer assistance to others in the future”.
This would indeed be a tragedy.