faith

The determined among us can continue to hold onto beliefs that cannot be put into practice. We can hold onto beliefs that can probably never be tested. I can continue to believe, for example, that a different way of organising things, a different system or a different set of values would suit human beings - and humanity - much better; would bring out the best in them, while the one we have (here) brings out the worst. If I am optimistic - or naive - enough, I can go on believing, even if everything around me seems to contradict the possibility.

One might expect there to be a strong correlation between the amount of time that someone spends reading or thinking about the terrible things that humans do to one another; and their view of human beings, of humanity in general, and of what is possible and desirable in a world created largely by humans. What seems strange is that the correlation appears to go in the wrong direction: those who are best informed about human rights violations - in other words, those who are most aware of the horrific things that some humans do to other humans - tend to be those who actually believe that (all) human beings are worthwhile individuals and that the world can be made into a place where people treat each other fairly, with respect¹.

On the other hand - those who appear to know least about the horrific experience and consequences of oppression, inequality, injustice - those with their heads in the business clouds, or anyway somewhere other than the human rights clouds - those people tend, in general, to have a less idealistic - some might say more cynical - view of humankind. (They would say, of course, that their view was more real-istic.)

Perhaps the second half of that 'correlation' is less universally true, but it is the first half that is so surprising. If anything ought to shake a belief in universal human dignity, then evidence of brutal, callous, selfish, devious behaviour by human beings on a widespread scale should do so. If anything ought to undermine our faith in the potential for universal human justice in the future, then evidence of fairly universal injustice in the present, endlessly rewarded, ought to do so; and if anything should breed cynicism, a resigned acceptance that the world is pretty grubby, always has been, and likely always will be - then an awareness of the impact and extent of human beings cheating, exploiting and oppressing one another surely ought to do so.

And yet... still it doesn't. I think we can even say with certainty that it will not do so: no amount of reading the reports of Amnesty International could make a human rights believer stop believing that even torturers are human beings, and even they deserve some minimal respect. More surprising, perhaps, no amount of seeing the depths to which human beings can sink appears to dampen hope that one day, if we were to do things differently, humanity just might stop sinking altogether.

It could be the case that the correlation (if indeed it exists) is coincidental: it could be the case that our belief in the possibility of a better world develops in parallel with, but wholly independently of our awareness of the inadequacies of this world. That seems unlikely - not least because the correlation seems so strong.

Perhaps it is that those who have their heads in the human rights clouds - or in the smog of violations - have more need for something to believe in, something that will clear the smog. So their belief in the fundamental dignity of terrorists, torturers and - even - US Presidents, however brutally and inhumanely they have all behaved, could be just a form of faith. I do believe to some extent it is (as I have said before).

Or then there are two further possibilities: the first is that by bumping into violations (intellectually, because I don't believe it holds on other levels) we come to see, to understand, how 'worthy' human beings can engage in brutal treatment. So the brutal treatment is viewed in context, rather than just being seen as a freak event, as evidence of 'evil'. That may be why someone like Eugene de Kock ('prime evil') who showed humanity in his genuine remorse is in some ways such a comfort: he confirms what we hope, desperately, is true of those who act in brutal ways.

But even so, and although I think that seeing things in context plays some part in explaining how the human rights believer can continue to believe - even so, I rather doubt it plays the most important part. I feel sure that we think we know the answer to the question about context before we bump into the 'evidence'. I feel sure that human rights believers start out believing, and then reshape the evidence they come across to fit it to the theory (just as the other side do too, undoubtedly). A suicide bomber, for example, must have had a reason; a torturer was almost certainly a victim; a president... Well, I'm not quite sure...

That isn't quite as hopelessly irrational as it may appear - and as the other side would paint it. It is certainly no less - but probably no more - rational than the other side's behaviour. It is just a very different view of human beings. And given that we start out with a different understanding of human beings, it cannot be surprising that we end up with a different explanation for why people do what they do. Their explanation doesn't work for us, because human beings are not like that (not evil, for example); and ours doesn't work for them for the same sort of reason. Human beings are not like that, they say, so they will not behave significantly differently in different circumstances.

The catch is that we can't change the circumstances without their help, and that means that it's very hard to prove to them that we are right.

A wonderful quote²:

"the forward-looking moral vision of human nature that is the source of human rights provides the basis for the social changes implicit in claims of human rights... We say: if you treat human beings this way, you will get truly human beings. They say: no you won't. So we don't need to treat them this way"

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1. I mean armchair awareness, of course. I make no claims for those who have experienced real human suffering on themselves.

2. I cannot for the life of me remember where I found it, but I will trace the author. I have the page number (18!)

When I was a tidy and naive right-winger, I thought it was very important to read the press of the 'opposition', rather than to read journalists who viewed things in the same way as you did. So I bought the Guardian rather than the Daily Telegraph, studying the opposition's best arguments for their position, trying to understand how they could believe in anything as obviously outdated and absurd as 'socialism' (as it was still called, just).

I thought that we would only ever get a true discourse between different ideologies if each side really understood the other - and that meant living, breathing, feeling the arguments as expounded by the others' best exponents. Trying to understand how on earth they could believe in them.

It seemed quite clear - and still does - that one could never expect to do that, if one only ever looked at the newspapers and journals that most naturally appealed. But that is exactly what happens: one side reads one set of arguments, statistics and interpretations; political 'opponents' read another set, completely different. Each set has been carefully selected and selected out to back up an existing position and appeal to readers who agree with it already. Not surprisingly, ne'er the twain do meet.

Something must have met - fleetingly, momentarily - in me, on my journey to the left. The trouble is, I don't remember passing through the mid-point, even if I noticed it. The first few months of Guardian reading made only imperceptible, tidy little alterations to my outlook. By the time I saw that I was on the move, I was going at such a pace that I could barely see the passing scenery. Since then I only seem to keep accelerating.

If I were true to my word (and beliefs) I should be reading the Telegraph again by now. I persuade myself that I don't need to because I've been there, done that, know the arguments. The truth is that I can't bring myself to do it, and find nothing except emptiness and odious opinions when I open it. Even the Guardian would represent an 'other' to my current thinking (and reading). Even the Guardian is often odious (with honourable exceptions).

But the danger in not looking at the odious opinions is that we then can't find the way back to another point of view. That doesn't matter too much if you really know you never want to go back; but it does matter for other reasons. First of all it matters because there are people - nice people - who actually believe the odious things. That is very difficult to reconcile. Secondly, it matters because it becomes increasingly difficult to engage in any sort of useful dialogue with anyone outside a narrow circle. Thirdly, it matters if you want (and need) the help of those who are still 'back' there to bring the world forward - and there is no doubt that we do.

Corruptness: lack of integrity or honesty; use of a position of trust for dishonest gain (from Definitions of corruption on the Web

Corruption is pretty normal nowadays. In the business world I can almost regard it as fair play: part of the sordid rules of that game. The latest Saudi arms deal was nothing surprising. We know that's how the world works, how the Blair government works, how the arms trade works. Shocking, perhaps, that we have become so inured to this that it no longer even surprises - let alone shocks - us. But it doesn't.

What does still shock (me, anyway) is corruption in spheres where you don't expect it, where the rules of the game do not demand it, where very few consider it, let alone engage in it. I don't just mean fiddling the books, which is indeed normal in every ngo and probably every institution (and maybe the rules of the game demand it). I mean deliberate deceit for personal gain, 'use of a position of trust for dishonest gain', in a world - such as the ngo world - where personal gain is publicly, demonstratively put in second place. Or that is the idea anyway.

The foundations on which our ultimate, unlimited faith in human beings rest are so incredibly fragile. The examples of human duplicity, brutality, ignominy are so horrifying and so widespread that it sometimes seems that those foundations must crumble. But we shore them up, determined that ignoble behaviour is always the result of corrupted rules of the game, of unfortunate circumstance, of the system, rather than the individual.

I had always imagined that the ngo world, even if corrupt in its own small way, was a relatively safe haven. When that too starts to rot; when the individuals appear to be moving the system towards corruption, rather than vice versa; when they look at the rot as if it is normal and the safe haven eats up the rot as if nothing has happened – then one wonders what on earth it is that we are trying to shore up.

In fact, if you subscribe to the human rights faith, only Nice people do Nasty things. There are no non-Nice people.

That is not meant (for once) to be a dig at the HRE (or the human rights) community. Really. If you believe in human rights, then it only makes sense if every individual, whatever they do or have done, is still fundamentally human; still has fundamentally human emotions, reactions, desires, regrets, intentions, hopes, fears, and little bursts of irritation, admiration, inspiration and frustration; still tries to do good for his or her immediate circle; and possibly tries to Do Good in a wider sense as well.

'Hand on heart, I did what I thought was right.' So said someone who, in trying to do what he thought was right, did one of the nastiest things imaginable, with horrendous and irreparable consequences. And actually – I even believe he had persuaded himself it was the right thing to do. Certainly a lot of people I know (and respect) thought it was the 'right' thing to do at the time.

But where does all that get us? If everyone is Nice, and everyone tries to do what they think is right - and I think I believe that as well – and yet we end up with crimes against humanity, not to speak of lesser crimes: how should we react? Do we just shrug our shoulders and reckon that what will be, will be? Do we aim to be tolerant and see the humanity in the doers of Nastiness? Do we draw the line anywhere – and if so, where?

The safe answer is to say that we condemn anything - but nothing else - that violates human rights. And the fashionable answer is that we don't condemn the person, merely the act: we aim to understand the person, to give him or her a second chance, to be tolerant.

In theory, that is a noble answer. Maybe - in theory it is the 'right' answer. But there are problems:

1. 'Human rights' is a relatively arbitrary line (which anyway shifts). It is OK for pragmatic purposes to use this line (and essential in matters of international politics) but it does not advance the ethical argument. It merely gives us a line in the sand which we can use to hide behind (excuse the mixed metaphors). Don't we want to be braver than that, and think about where we would like it to be? Someone has 'decided' where it is at the moment, after all. We shall look pretty silly when it changes.

2. Where the human rights line is at the moment is almost bound to be inadequate - too far back - because it has been agreed primarily by pragmatist governments at a level, and in such a way, that it is far enough removed from normal practice as to be relatively harmless. To see that, you only have to look at the state of the world today and the things that still fall on the 'right' side of the human rights line (for the purposes of governments, anyway) - homelessness, lack of health care, control orders.

3. More to the point for the purposes of this question: where the human rights line is at the moment is inadequate as a guide to human behaviour because it is not intended to be a guide to human behaviour. It is intended to be a guide for governmental behaviour. We use it as a 'guide' for human behaviour because the ethical system that underlies it is sympathetic (and noble) to us. But the ethical system is both richer and stricter (I think) than the legal system it gave birth to. It must be.

1 - 3 above are about where the line should be, where it is now and what it is intended for. The hardest question - and the question HRE needs to address - is what we do in the realm that human rights is not intended for: in the realm of personal attitudes. Human rights are about behaviour, which may be a consequence of 'nasty' (or nice) attitudes. The realm that is troubling is precisely the realm of those attitudes.

2 more things, just to note:

1. I remember being surprised when I first started working in Russia that human rights activists were often at each others' throats. It seemed that if there was ever a group of people who should work together, who should be able to swallow (and tolerate) their differences - it ought to be human rights activists. I wondered - and wonder - whether HR activists (not only Russian ones) are actually some of the least 'tolerant' people; and I wonder if that is a coincidence. It is hard to be tolerant when you spend your working and resting hours looking at mutilated bodies or photographs of them, reading or listening to endless accounts of yet more brutal, sadistic, and inhumane acts.

2. I wonder if intolerance in HR activists is not only a fairly natural reaction to the world they tend to see, but also a necessary quality for the work they try to do. Tolerating torture doesn't get you very far in trying to put an end to it.

And then I wonder... whether the human rights and the human rights education communities need to be, should be so very far apart that what is valued in one community is despised in the other.

I have always seen belief in human rights as akin to religious belief. No amount of argument will persuade someone of the human rights faith that they are wrong; and no amount of argument can persuade a human rights non-believer that they are wrong. The belief, in both cases, (or the non-belief) is not rational. It is based, if anything, on hope, a need to believe - on faith.

How could it be rational? What rational argument could we employ to persuade or dissuade someone? What rational argument - more to the point - might dissuade us from our belief? Can we imagine an argument that might make us say 'wow. looks like I was wrong then. x really has no human rights'.

Consider what sort of thing we are saying when we say 'human rights are universal'. First of all, we are making a statement about international law: that in theory (and very much in theory) everyone is protected to some degree by the grand declarations to which all governments give their vocal support. Very much in theory, we might be able to use the weak and faulty mechanisms of international law to protect individuals, if it turns out that their governments have failed to do so.

But human rights believers are also making a much bigger claim than this. I believe that they (we) are also making both a moral claim about how human beings should be treated and what they are entitled to; and they are grounding that moral claim in a psychological claim about human nature.

The moral claim is roughly that 'all human beings are worthy individuals and deserve to be treated like human beings'. The bit about 'deserving to be treated' is variously interpreted - incorporating 2nd and 3rd generation rights in its maximal form, and only 1st generation rights in its minimal form. But put that aside for the moment. (It is also worth saying that there are many human rights 'believers' who are 2nd and 3rd generation rights non-believers¹).

The question that a real non-believer (one who questions the whole human rights ideology) is entitled to ask is 'why on earth should I believe that all human beings are worthy individuals?'. In their minds is normally one or more of the classic 'villains' - the paedophile, the serial murderers, or Hitler, if you like.

And what sort of arguments do we generally employ to answer him/her? Why do we believe that the paedophile, serial murderers and Hitlers are still worthy individuals entitled to human treatment?

Mostly we thump the table in a Kohlberg Stage 1-type way: 'But They Are Human Beings Too; They Have Human Rights'. That obviously gets us (and the non-believers) nowhere.

Then we often appeal to their background: we explain terrible behaviour by showing the psychological reasons behind it. In other words, we effectively say: 'These are human beings who have strayed for perfectly understandable reasons. They can be put back on the path, and should be given the chance'. The non-believer can doubt either the first (psychological) part of that claim, and insist that these human beings were genetically programmed / inclined to behave as they did; s/he can doubt the second (psychological) part and insist that nothing will put them back on the right path; and s/he can doubt the third (moral) part of the claim and insist that the offender has lost the right to be treated like a human being. We can only respond by repeating those 3 claims; and the non-believer can only continue to repeat the counter-claims (each side thumping the table).

Otherwise we can use pragmatic / political arguments of the form: 'Do you want to live in a society where people are not given the chance to reform?'; or 'human error means we can never guarantee that someone is beyond reform: isn't it preferable to have a system that errs on the side of caution?' This is actually our best chance of a dialogue; but it is such a watered-down version of the believer's claim that we are often shy about using it.

The main point is that our whole belief about the moral rectitude of human rights and our certainty that 'human rights are universal', that 'human rights belong to you from birth', that 'human rights cannot be taken away from you', is based mostly, and most often, in dogma - which, like all good believers, we rarely think about or question. If we do question it, I think it boils down to various psychological claims about why people commit evil and whether it was inevitable or not; and whether there is still enough humanity in them to warrant humane treatment (even at the possible cost to society as a whole).

Yet if we are asked to justify those monumental claims about human behaviour and psychology, pretty much all we can say is that we are sure about them (few of us are professional psychologists anyway).

Just supposing the whole psychological community came out with a statement that human behaviour is 99% nature and 1% nurture and there is nothing anyone can do about it. Hitler was going to be Hitler, George Bush was going to be George Bush and Tony Bliar was going to be a congenital liar. Does that undermine our faith one tiny weeny bit?

I think we just say 'it could never happen'. But it could; we just don't want it to and don't want to believe it could. It would destroy our whole world system, our whole system of values and beliefs about human beings. So we won't believe it.

Isn't that just like faith?

Footnote:

1. Actually, I am not sure that the 2nd and 3rd generation rights deniers are really human rights believers. I think they are probably better classified as state-haters (who have not properly thought through the false negative-positive rights dichotomy). But that is another discussion.