Blessed are the Peace Makers: IWM and Pacifism

With centennial commemorations of the First World War still in full progress the trauma of that conflict continues to throb. Unlike 1914, today there is a consensus on the immorality of war, and few would seriously celebrate wholescale slaughter on the battlefield for its own sake. It’s hard to see anything other than horror in the stark images of trenches choked with splintered corpses and muddy bones.

The Imperial War Museum’s People Power: Fighting for Peace, which closes this week, charts the history of pacifism throughout the 20^th century. As the nature of warfare transformed dramatically over the century and technological advancements gave a single button the power of life and death over millions, the exhibition also asks whether non-involvement alone can be morally justified.

At the beginning of the exhibition hangs a Quaker flag from the early 20^th century, made several years before the nightmare of the First World War clutched the world in its unshakeable grasp. On one side reads ‘Blessed are the Peace Makers’, Matthew 5:9. On the reverse is a picture of a dove, an olive sprig in its mouth as it swoops down on a world ravaged by war. It encourages us to become makers of peace, but what does that mean? Is it enough to not pick up a gun? Or do conflicts need to be prevented before they erupt? Can a peace maker allow technology to evolve in ever crueller directions? These were questions confronting pacifists in the 20^th century.

The gifted philosopher Bertrand Russell was involved with anti-nuclear demonstrations in the early 1960’s despite approaching the age of ninety. He was compelled to do so by the threat of nuclear annihilation. First president of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND), founded in 1957, he resigned in 1960 to form the Committee of 100, concerned that CND was not involved in sufficient direct action and hence losing the public’s interest. In a photo from the era we see Russell seated on the ground in the middle of a sit-in, gaunt and venerable, surrounded by supporters.

A poster from the same time asks bluntly ‘Would you press the button? Will you let them?’, inviting the reader to join Russell and seven thousand others in a demonstration outside the air ministry (assuming they wouldn’t). By the post-war period ‘sitting it out’ was no longer enough. To thwart a nuclear apocalypse you needed to be actively engaged. War must be stopped before it begins and the bomb destroyed before it explodes.

Public support for the CND wound down after 1963 in response to the Test Ban Treaty, the conflict in Vietnam overshadowing nuclear concerns. But to use a cliched phrase, the Cold War heating up again by the early 80’s, the CND found itself again leading a crusade against nuclear destruction. Images from that period don’t baulk at portraying an alternative view of the special relationship: Britain relegated as the US’ toilet. But with their conical peaks, the two turds dumped on the Midlands also resemble nuclear warheads, in turn implicating the ethical foundations of NATO military strategy. Underneath we see a grotesque map of Great Britain and Ireland, both composed entirely of corpses. The message is stark: if nuclear war is permitted to go ahead then our countries will be reduced to just that, fields of bodies.

The Unending Cult of Human Sacrifice, an uncompromising title for an uncompromising artwork. Painted by C.R.W. Nevinson, official war artist during the First World War, the piece was completed in 1934. In sweeping Hollywood fashion, the artist shows warfare ranging from across the centuries compressed into a single battle, artillery and bayonets in the foreground replaced by knights and chariots in the distance. Scattered amongst the clashing armies are images of Christian iconography, the Virgin Mary backing one side whilst several saints stand against her. A crucified Christ has been hauled up like one of many flags and the dove of peace has been supplanted by planes of war. The message is stark: morality and religion cannot be perverted to support war, to sustain its unending cult. Complacency is the friend of death.