One of the essential experiences of war is never being able toescape from disgusting smells of human origin. Latrines are anoverworked subject in war literature, and I would not mention themif it were not that the latrine in our barracks did its necessarybit towards puncturing my own illusions about the Spanish civilwar. The Latin type of latrine, at which you have to squat, is badenough at its best, but these were made of some kind of polishedstone so slippery that it was all you could do to keep on yourfeet. In addition they were always blocked. Now I have plenty ofother disgusting things in my memory, but I believe it was theselatrines that first brought home to me the thought, so often torecur: 'Here we are, soldiers of a revolutionary army, defendingDemocracy against Fascism, fighting a war which is ABOUT something,and the detail of our lives is just as sordid and degrading as itcould be in prison, let alone in a bourgeois army.' Many otherthings reinforced this impression later; for instance, the boredomand animal hunger of trench life, the squalid intrigues over scrapsof food, the mean, nagging quarrels which people exhausted by lackof sleep indulge in.
It is curious that more vividly than anything that cameafterwards in the Spanish war I remember the week of so-calledtraining that we received before being sent to the front–thehuge cavalry barracks in Barcelona with its draughty stables andcobbled yards, the icy cold of the pump where one washed, thefilthy meals made tolerable by pannikins of wine, the Trouseredmilitia-women chopping firewood, and the roll-call in the earlymornings where my prosaic English name made a sort of comicinterlude among the resounding Spanish ones, Manuel Gonzalez, PedroAguilar, Ramon Fenellosa, Roque Ballaster, Jaime Domenech,Sebastian Viltron, Ramon Nuvo Bosch. I name those particular menbecause I remember the faces of all of them. Except for two whowere mere riff-raff and have doubtless become good Falangists bythis time, it is probable that all of them are dead. Two of them Iknow to be dead. The eldest would have been about twenty-five, theyoungest sixteen.
But because he belonged to the nineteenth century and to anon-military nation and class, he could not grasp the tremendousstrength of the old world which was symbolised in his mind byfox-hunting Tories. He was, and still is, quite incapable ofunderstanding that nationalism, religious bigotry and feudalloyalty are far more powerful forces than what he himself woulddescribe as sanity. Creatures out of the Dark Ages have comemarching into the present, and if they are ghosts they are at anyrate ghosts which need a strong magic to lay them. The people whohave shown the best understanding of Fascism are either those whohave suffered under it or those who have a Fascist streak inthemselves. A crude book like THE IRON HEEL, written nearly thirtyyears ago, is a truer prophecy of the future than either BRAVE NEWWORLD or THE SHAPE OF THINGS TO COME. If one had to choose amongWells's own contemporaries a writer who could stand towards him asa corrective, one might choose Kipling, who was not deaf to theevil voices of power and military "glory". Kipling would haveunderstood the appeal of Hitler, or for that matter of Stalin,whatever his attitude towards them might be. Wells is too sane tounderstand the modern world. The succession of lower-middle-classnovels which are his greatest achievement stopped short at theother war and never really began again, and since 1920 he hassquandered his talents in slaying paper dragons. But how much itis, after all, to have any talents to squander.
Even in the U.S. some of the resulting policies on how suspects will be treated, on how access to personal information will be made available for security concerns and so on, led to debates at all levels on what is considered an attack on civil liberties, and what is reasonable for security. On the foreign policy arena, there was increasing concern that the U.S. would be able to use the to pursue aggressive policies that were previously criticized by many other people. This can range from economic, to political and even military policies. The Iraq war was one such example, where among other things, the concern of terrorism was used to , even though the terrorism links were not real.
Coaty essay, buy custom Understanding the War on Terror by Patrick C
Just ar Theory
Sweeping changes in the way wars are fought have brought current scholars' attention to the ethical concept of the Just ar. The concept of the Just ar is nearly as old as war itself; it is perhaps best codified in Thucydides' History of the Peloponnesian ar. There have historically been two main approaches to deciding what is, in fact, fair in war: deontological and consequentialist. In short, these opposing poles represent: on the one hand, duty, what war "ought" to be, and the notion that war requires a moral motivation and morally justifiable means; on the other hand, realpolitik, pragmatic considerations, and an account based on justifiable ends rather than means. The deontological approach takes many cues from Kant's ethics, while the consequentialist or Realist school finds its roots in John Stuart Mill, among others.
Recent work in political philosophy and ethics has attempted to place international……
Habeas corpus and the war on terror essays - Karnet Design
Actually, NO … the war on terror is a “spectacular success” for the ONE PERCENT! They have the people under their thumb with the police state, NSA, TSA, HLS and other Tranny!
In the bazaar huge families of Jews, all dressed in the longblack robe and little black skull-cap, are working in darkfly-infested booths that look like caves. A carpenter sitscross-legged at a prehistoric lathe, turning chair-legs atlightning speed. He works the lathe with a bow in his right handand guides the chisel with his left foot, and thanks to a lifetimeof sitting in this position his left leg is warped out of shape. Athis side his grandson, aged six, is already starting on the simplerparts of the job.
Terror and Liberalism - The American Prospect
Why is this incident touching to me? Because in any normal circumstances it would have been impossible for good feelings ever to be re-established between this boy and myself. The implied accusation of theft would not have been made any better, probably somewhat worse, by my efforts to make amends. One of the effects of safe and civilized life is an immense oversensitiveness which makes all the primary emotions seem somewhat disgusting. Generosity is as painful as meanness, gratitude as hateful as ingratitude. But in Spain in 1936 we were not living in a normal time. It was a time when generous feelings and gestures were easier than they ordinarily are. I could relate a dozen similar incidents, not really communicable but bound up in my own mind with the special atmosphere of the time, the shabby clothes and the gay-coloured revolutionary posters, the universal use of the word ‘comrade’, the anti-Fascist ballads printed on flimsy paper and sold for a penny, the phrases like ‘international proletarian solidarty’, pathetically repeated by ignorant men who believed them to mean something. Could you feel friendly towards somebody, and stick up for him in a quarrel, after you had been ignominiously searched in his presence for property you were supposed to have stolen from him? No, you couldn't; but you might if you had both been through some emotionally widening experience. That is one of the by-products of revolution, though in this case it was only the beginnings of a revolution, and obviously foredoomed to failure.