conscripted soldiers, their subjugated civilians.
   War is a class phenomenon. This has been an unbroken truth from ancient times to our
   own, when the victims of the Vietnam War turned out to be working-class Americans and
   Asian peasants. Preparations for war maintains swol en military bureaucracies, gives profits
   to corporations (and enough jobs to ordinary citizens to bring them along). And they give
   politicians special power, because fear of "the enemy" becomes the basis for entrusting
   policy to a handful of leaders, who feel bound (as we have seen so often) by no
   constitutional limits, no constraints of decency or commitment to truth.
   Justice Without Violence
   Massive violence has been accepted historical y by citizens (but not by al ; hence desertions,
   opposition, and the need for bribery and coercion to build armies) because it has been
   presented as a means to good ends. Al over the world there are nations that commit
   aggression on other nations and on their own people, whether in the Middle East, or Latin
   America, or South Africa—nations that offend our sense of justice. Most people don't real y
   want violence. But they do want justice, and for that sake, they can be persuaded to
   engage in war and civil war.
   Al of us, therefore, as we approach the next century, face an enormous responsibility: How
   to achieve justice without massive violence. Whatever in the past has been the moral
   justification for violence—whether defense against attack, or the overthrow of tyranny—
   must now be accomplished by other means.
   It is the monumental moral and tactical chal enge of our time. It wil make the greatest
   demands on our ingenuity, our courage, our patience, and our wil ingness to renounce old
   habits—but it must be done. Surely nations must defend themselves against attack, citizens
   must resist and remove oppressive regimes, the poor must rebel against their poverty and
   redistribute the wealth of the rich. But that must be done without the violence of war.
   Too many of the official tributes to Martin Luther King, Jr., have piously praised his
   nonviolence, the praise often coming from political leaders who themselves have committed
   great violence against other nations and have accepted the daily violence of poverty in
   American life. But King's phrase, and that of the southern civil rights movement, was not
   simply "nonviolence," but nonviolent direct action.
   In this way, nonviolence does not mean acceptance, but resistance—not waiting, but acting.
   It is not at al passive. It involves strikes, boycotts, noncooperation, mass demonstrations,
   and sabotage, as wel as appeals to the conscience of the world, even to individuals in the
   oppressing group who might break away from their past.
   232
   Direct action does not deride using the political rights, the civil liberties, even the voting mechanisms in those societies where they are available (as in the United States), but it
   recognizes the limitations of those control ed rights and goes beyond.
   Freedom and justice, which so often have been the excuses for violence, are stil our goals.
   But the means for achieving them must change, because violence, however tempting in the
   quickness of its action, undermines those goals immediately, and also in the long run. The
   means for achieving social change must match, moral y, the ends.
   It is true that human rights cannot be defended or advanced without power. But, if we have learned anything useful from the carnage of this century, it is that true power does not—as
   the heads of states everywhere implore us to believe—come out of the barrel of a gun, or
   out of a missile silo.
   The possession of 10,000 thermonuclear weapons by the United States did not change the
   fact that it was helpless to stop a revolution in Cuba or another in Nicaragua, that it was
   unable to defeat its enemy either in Korea or in Vietnam. The possession of an equal
   number of bombs by the Soviet Union did not prevent its forced withdrawal from
   Afghanistan nor did it deter the Solidarity uprising in Poland, which was successful enough
   to change the government and put into office a Solidarity member as prime minister. The
   fol owing news item from the summer of 1989 would have been dismissed as a fantasy two
   years earlier: "Solidarity, vilified and outlawed for eight years until April, jubilantly entered Parliament today as the first freely elected opposition party to do so in a Communist
   country."19
   The power of massive armaments is much overrated. Indeed, it might be cal ed a huge
   fake—one of the great hoaxes of the twentieth century. We have seen heavily armed
   tyrants flee before masses of citizens galvanized by a moral goal. Recal those television
   images of Somoza scurrying to his private plane in Managua; of Ferdinand and Imelda
   Marcos quickly assembling their suitcases of clothes, jewels, and cash and fleeing the
   Philippines; of the Shah of Iran searching desperately for someone to take him in; of
   Duvalier barely managing to put on his pants before escaping the fury of the Haitian people.
   In the United States we saw the black movement for civil rights confront the slogan of
   "Never" in a South where blacks seemed to have no power, where the old ways were
   buttressed by wealth and a monopoly of political control. Yet, in a few years, the South was
   transformed.
   I recal at the end of the great march from Selma to Montgomery in 1965 when, after our
   twenty-mile trek that day, coming into Montgomery, I had decided to skip the speeches at
   the capitol and fly back to Boston. At the airport I ran into my old Atlanta col eague and
   friend, Whitney Young, now head of the Urban League, who had just arrived to be part of
   the celebration in Montgomery. We decided to have coffee together in the recently
   desegregated airport cafeteria.
   The waitress obviously was not happy at the sight of us. Aside from the integration of it, she might have been disconcerted by the fact that the white man was stil mud-splattered,
   disheveled, and unshaven from the march, and the black man, tal and handsome, was
   impeccably dressed with suit and tie. We noticed the big button on her uniform. It said
   "Never!" but she served us our coffee.
   233
   Racism stil poisons the country, north and south. Blacks stil mostly live in poverty, and their life expectancy is years less than that of whites. But important changes have taken
   place that were at one time unimaginable. A consciousness about the race question exists
   among blacks and whites that did not exist before. The nation wil never be the same after
   that great movement, wil never be able to deny the power of nonviolent direct action.
   The movement against the Vietnam War in the United States too was powerful, and yet
   nonviolent (although, like the civil rights movement, it led to violent scenes whenever the
   government decided to use police or National Guardsmen, against peaceful demonstrators).
   It seemed puny and hopelessly weak at its start. In the first years of the war, no one in
   public life dared to speak of unilateral withdrawal from Vietnam. When my book Vietnam:
   The Logic of Withdrawal was published in 1967, the idea that we should simply leave
   Vietnam was considered radical. But by 1969 it was the majority sentiment in the country.
   By 1973 it was in the peace agreement, and the huge U.S. military presence in Vietnam was
   wit 
					     					 			hdrawn.
   President Lyndon Johnson had said; "We wil not turn tail and run." But we did, and it was nothing to be ashamed of. It was the right thing to do. Of course, the military impasse in
   Vietnam was crucial in bringing the war to an end, but it took the movement at home to
   make American leaders decide not to try to break that impasse by a massive escalation, by
   more death and destruction. They had to accept the limits of military power.
   In that same period, cultural changes in the country showed once again the power of
   apparently powerless people. Women, a century before, had shown their power and won the
   right to go to col ege, to become doctors and lawyers, and to vote. And then in the sixties
   and seventies the women's liberation movement began to alter the nation's perception of
   women in the workplace, in the home, and in relationships with men, other women, and
   children. The right to abortion was established by the Supreme Court against powerful
   opposition by religious conservatives (although that decision is stil under heavy attack).
   Another apparently powerless group—homosexual men and lesbian women—encouraged
   perhaps by what other movements had been able to accomplish against great odds, took
   advantage of the atmosphere of change. They demanded, and in some places received,
   acceptance for what had before been unmentionable.
   These last decades have shown us that ordinary people can bring down institutions and
   change policies that seemed entrenched forever. It is not easy. And there are situations that
   seem immovable except by violent revolution. Yet even in such situations, the bloody cost
   of endless violence—of revolt leading to counterrevolutionary terror, and more revolt and
   more terror in an endless cycle of death—suggests a reconsideration of tactics.
   We think of South Africa, which is perhaps the supreme test of the usefulness of nonviolent
   direct action. It is a situation where blacks have been the victims of murderous violence and
   where the atmosphere is tense with the expectation of more violence, perhaps this time on
   both sides. But even the African National Congress, the most militant and most popular of
   black organizations there, clearly wants to end apartheid and attain political power without
   a bloodbath that might cost a mil ion lives. Its members have tried to mobilize international
   opinion, have adopted nonviolent but dramatic tactics: boycotts, economic sanctions,
   demonstrations, marches, and strikes. There wil undoubtedly be more cruelty, more
   repression, but if the nonviolent movement can grow, perhaps one day a general strike wil
   paralyze the economy and the government and compel a negotiated settlement for a
   multiracial, democratic South Africa.
   234
   The Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza Strip, under the military occupation of the Israelis since the war of 1967, began around 1987 to adopt nonviolent tactics, massive
   demonstrations, to bring the attention of the world to their brutal treatment by the Israelis.
   This brought more brutality, as hundreds of Palestinians, unarmed (except for clubs and
   rocks), were shot to death by Israeli soldiers. But the world did begin to pay attention and if
   there is final y a peaceful arrangement that gives the Palestinians their freedom and Israel
   its security, it wil probably be the result of nonviolent direct action.
   Certainly, the use of terrorist violence, whether by Arabs placing bombs among civilians or
   by Jews bombing vil ages and kil ing large numbers of noncombatants, is not only immoral,
   but gains nothing for anybody. Except perhaps a spurious glory for macho revolutionaries or
   ruthless political leaders puffed up with their "power" whenever they succeed in blowing up a bus, destroying a vil age, or (as with Reagan) kil ing a hundred people by dropping bombs
   on Tripoli.
   People made fearful by politicians but also by real historical experience worry about invasion
   and foreign occupation. The assumption has always been that the only defense is to meet
   violence with violence. We have pointed out that, with the weaponry available today, the
   result is only suicidal (South Korea against North Korea, Iran against Iraq, even Vietnam
   against the United States).
   A determined population can not only force a domestic ruler to flee the country, but can
   make a would-be occupier retreat, by the use of a formidable arsenal of tactics: boycotts
   and demonstrations, occupations and sit-ins, sit-down strikes and general strikes,
   obstruction and sabotage, refusal to pay taxes, rent strikes, refusal to cooperate, refusal to
   obey curfew orders or gag orders, refusal to pay fines, fasts and pray-ins, draft resistance,
   and civil disobedience of various kinds.20 Gene Sharp and his col eagues at Harvard, in a
   study of the American Revolution, concluded that the colonists were hugely successful in
   using nonviolent tactics against England. Opposing the Stamp Tax and other oppressive
   laws, the colonists used boycotts of British goods, il egal town meetings, refusal to serve on
   juries, and withholding taxes. Sharp notes that "in nine or ten of the thirteen colonies,
   British governmental power had already been effectively and il egal y replaced by substitute
   governments" before military conflict began at Lexington and Concord.21
   Thousands of such instances have changed the world, but they are nearly absent from the
   history books. History texts feature military heroes, lead entire generations of the young to
   think that wars are the only way to solve problems of self-defense, justice, and freedom.
   They are kept uninformed about the world's long history of nonviolent struggle and
   resistance.
   Political scientists have general y ignored nonviolent action as a form of power. Like the
   politicians, they too have been intoxicated with power. And so in studying international
   relations, they play games (it's cal ed, professional y, "game theory") with the strategic moves that use the traditional definitions of power—guns and money. It wil take a new
   movement of students and faculty across the country to turn the universities and academies
   from the study of war games to peace games, from military tactics to resistance tactics,
   from strategies of "first-strike" to those of "general strike."
   It would be foolish to claim, even with the widespread acceptance of nonviolent direct action
   as the way of achieving justice and resisting tyranny, that al group violence wil come
   cleanly to an end. But the gross instances can be halted, especial y those that require the
   cooperation of the citizenry and that depend on the people to accept the legitimacy of the
   government's actions.
   235
   Military power is helpless without the acquiescence of those people it depends on to carry out orders. The most powerful deterrent to aggression would be the declared determination
   of a whole people to resist in a thousand ways.
   When we become depressed at the thought of the enormous power that governments,
   multinational corporations, armies and police have to control minds, crush dissents, and
   destroy rebel ions, we should consider a phenomenon that I have always found interesting:
   Those who possess enormous power are surprisingly nervous about their ability to hold on
   to their power. They react almost hysterical y to what seem to be puny and unthreatening
   signs of opposition.
   For instance, we see the mighty Soviet 
					     					 			 state feeling the need to put away, out of sight,
   handfuls of disorganized intel ectuals. We see the American government, armored with a
   thousand layers of power, work strenuously to put a few dissident Catholic priests in jail or
   keep a writer or artist out of this country. We remember Nixon's hysterical reaction to a
   solitary man picketing the White House: "Get him!"
   Is it possible that the people in authority know something that we don't know? Perhaps they
   know their own ultimate weakness. Perhaps they understand that smal movements can
   become big ones, that if an idea takes hold in the population, it may become indestructible.
   It is one of the characteristics of complex and powerful machines that they are vulnerable to
   tiny unforeseen developments. The disaster of the giant space vessel Chal enger was due to
   the failure of a smal ring that was affected by cold. Similarly, huge organizations can be
   rendered helpless by a few determined people. A headline in the New York Times in the
   summer of 1989 read: "Environmentalists' Vessels Sink Navy Missile Test." The story began, The Navy was forced to cancel a test launching of its newest missile today
   when four vessels manned by protesters sailed into a restricted zone 50 miles
   off the Atlantic coast of Florida and attached an antinuclear banner on the
   side of the submarine that was to fire the missile.22
   As al -control ing a government as that in the Soviet Union must stil worry about its
   citizens' protest, especial y when large numbers of people are involved. The Soviet Union,
   after unilateral y halting its nuclear tests for a year and a half and finding that the United
   States did not respond, announced in February 1987, that it would now resume testing. And
   it did. But suddenly, it mysteriously halted testing for five months in 1989. Why?
   According to two American physicians connected with "Physicians for Social Responsibility,"
   and in touch with Soviet doctors, the mysterious five-month absence of nuclear testing may
   wel have been due, in their words, to "the rapid growth of a grassroots environmental
   movement in Kazakhstan." It seems that two underground tests had released radioactive
   gases into the atmosphere. This led a prominent Kazakh poet to cal a meeting of concerned
   citizens. Five thousand people assembled and made a public appeal to close the test site in