Madely in the morning, June 29 - Download This Episode
In my latest National Post column I argue that people who believe in “evidence-based decision making” shouldn’t believe gun control would reduce the murder rate in the US or anywhere else.
So here’s a great pseudo-event in world history. Or if you prefer out-of-this-world history. On June 29 1995, exactly 20 years ago, the American space shuttle Atlantis docked at Russia’s Mir space station to form the largest artificial satellite ever to orbit Earth.
It was technically impressive, of course. Space exploration always is; the margin of error is very small and the energy required to get things into space means you can’t take a bunch of spare stuff to fix problems even if you get time. But that’s not the point.
The point here is that a propaganda stunt is just that. It was done to show how warm and cuddly everyone was feeling, even though not everyone was feeling that way, because those who were and those who weren’t both found the image useful.
The problem is, they didn’t find it useful in similar ways. Western politicians were busy spending the “peace dividend” from the unexpected end of the Cold War so they rather needed peace to be the normal condition in international affairs, the past few thousand years since writing was invented a regrettable but temporary exception, and harmony the rule.
Everyone else needed the West to let down its guard so they could regroup. As too often, there’s a curious temporary converge in the short-run aims of liberal politicians in democracies and illiberal ones in non-democracies. But there’s no long-run convergence and we should beware of the temporary ones, because for separate reasons both wish to deny that the latter are actively plotting against the former.
True, when Atlantis met Mir Vladimir Putin had not yet risen to supreme power in Russia. But his rise did not take place in a vacuum and despite the genuinely well-meaning Boris Yeltsin, much of Russia’s political class was, and remains, profoundly anti-Western. And the fact that American and Russian engineers can bring two spaceships together when the politicians want them do doesn’t mean the two societies and cultures are converging in ways that make such events happen spontaneously as an expression of their common bond.
It’s like those hockey series we used to stage so we (Canadians) could show friendship and they (the Soviets) could crush us to prove the superiority of their system. We weren’t so much being played for suckers as playing ourselves for suckers. And that never ends well.
It is of course an old-fashioned view. But then, the Gods of the Copybook Headings lie in wait for those who abandon old-fashioned views.
Incidentally I’m so old-fashioned I still prefer Earth’s natural satellite, and am sorry a space station is frequently now the brightest object in the night sky. And I don’t believe stunts contribute to world peace, or space peace.
“Naebody gits to this age wishin’ they’d din mair worryin’.”
His Scots grandfather at age 96 (puffing on his pipe) quoted by Jim Coyle in the Toronto Star October 24 1998
On June 28, 1914, a Serbian nationalist named Gavrilo Princip assassinated Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne. Given what followed, namely World War I, he should not have done so.
Apparently Franz Ferdinand himself was no great shakes. That this cold, choleric man loved his wife (also assassinated that day) is about the only positive quality I’ve ever seen attributed to him. But you don’t shoot a man for being obnoxious.
Princip and his associates were steamed that Austria-Hungary had completed its slow-motion seizure of Bosnia and Herzogovina from the crumbling Ottoman Empire back in 1908 (it took 30 years), believing Serbia should have had it instead. Which might be true to the limited extent that any regime in Eastern Europe in 1908 had any legitimate claim to anything. But again, you don’t shoot a man for that, even a rather unpleasant one.
The reason the conspirators wanted to assassinate the archduke, oddly, was that he was seen as a reformer. He apparently planned to create a tripartite Austro-Hungaro-Serbia that would reduce discontent among Serbs within the Hapsburg domains and make it less likely they would insist on the glorious path of joining Serbia in the Balkan snakepit.
The assassins may also have felt that in a showdown Russia would side with Serbia against Austria-Hungary. If so they were correct that far. But whatever else they may have envisioned, neither they nor anyone else could have foreseen the scale of carnage that would erupt, killing millions of men, destroying the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the Russian Empire that opposed it, the German Empire that backed Austria-Hungary and the Ottoman Empire they had been busy carving up, and sowing the seeds of an even more brutal war a quarter-century later.
Had they foreseen it, one hopes, they would have decided to find something else do to than plot seedy assassinations on behalf of dubious causes. But then, they weren’t the sort of people to shy away from unpleasantness.
In that sense, Princip was unlucky that the consequence of his action was as enormously awful as it turned out to be. (He himself botched suicide twice right after firing the fatal shots, was caught, sentenced to 20 years in jail, and saw most of World War I unfold before dying of tuberculosis on April 28, 1918.) But his action was itself quite awful regardless. So if he had been a better man, he would not have done what he did including accidentally plunging the world into World War I.
As a footnote to this story Franz Ferdinand, a fanatical hunter, was evidently very nearly killed by an accidental shotgun discharge at Welbeck in England in 1913. The Duke of Portland, himself present and narrowly missed, later wrote, “I have often wondered whether the Great War might not have been averted, or at least postponed, had the archduke met his death there and not in Sarajevo the following year.”
His reference to its being delayed rather than prevented reminds us that Princip’s actions triggered rather than caused the conflict and it is highly probable that the geopolitical instability of Europe by 1914, or its excessive stability allowing tensions to build to catastrophic levels, might well have precipitated the catastrophe fairly shortly anyway. But again, the fact that we cannot foresee all the ends of our actions does not mean we cannot choose wisely between good and evil by sticking to certain basic principles.
It may not be wrong to assassinate a man thus triggering The Great War, in that we cannot reasonably anticipate triggering The Great War, any more than one might murder Adolf Hitler in 1920 to prevent World War II. But it is wrong to assassinate a man for being a reformer in a decadent regime. So Princip should not have done it regardless of its geopolitical consequences.