The unfolding disaster in Burma makes a persuasive case for broader collective responsibility, writes TONY KINSELLA
'MOST PEOPLE think of a cyclone as a natural disaster - but actually, it's just a natural event," Nicki Bennett, a US Oxfam worker, wrote in The New York Times on May 7th. Every so often our planet stages a dramatic event - Hurricane Katrina, Cyclone Nargis, the Sichuan earthquake - that pierces our consciousness. The most common narrative portrays these events as humbling - human impotence in the face of nature.
This fatalistic approach is not just flawed; it is fundamentally wrong and de-motivating. If prevention is impossible, why bother? If, however, the impact of natural events on humans is largely dependent on our actions, then the question becomes a political one.
Cyclone Sidr hit Bangladesh, one of the poorest countries in the world, in 2007. Two million inhabitants had moved to shelters, 3.2 million more were evacuated, and 4,000 died. Bangladesh had learned painful lessons from previous cyclones - 500,000 dead in 1970, and 140,000 in 1991. Dacca had prepared, a political response from a democratic country to a natural threat.
The Burmese experience illustrates the opposite - no preparations, no warnings, no interest from a military junta in the fate of its subjects. UN estimates suggest 128,000 dead, with another 1.5 million at risk.
In 1994 an earthquake that measured 6.6 on the Richter scale hit Los Angeles. Sixty-three people were killed. 2003 saw the Iranian city of Bam struck by a 6.5 earthquake that caused 28,000 fatalities. Both cities are in active earthquake zones. One had developed and enforced appropriate building regulations, the other had not. A question of resources and priorities - the essence of all political choices.
Senior Gen Than Shwe's Burmese regime has made it clear that it has no intention of admitting large numbers of western aid specialists. The view from its remote capital, Naypyidaw, sees foreign aid workers as a greater political threat than the deaths of more than a million of its subjects.
George Orwell, who served briefly with the British colonial service in Burma, would appreciate the junta's official title of State Peace and Development Council. The council, apart from lining its own pockets, has prioritised the development of its Tatmadaw armed forces over other investments. The Burmese air force has acquired more than 150 combat aircraft, mainly Chinese-built F-7 and A-5 models. The army boasts several hundred armoured vehicles and a significant air defence arsenal.
Yet road and railway links to the Irrawaddy delta were crumbling long before Nargis ravaged them. Rangoon airport lacks modern cargo handling vehicles - hence the footage of planes being emptied by hand. One dispatch reports that the airport has a single operational forklift truck.
The vast majority of those who were drowned or crushed by Nargis need not have died, but they are dead and gone. The same is not true for the millions at risk from starvation, exposure and epidemics; they could, even now, be saved. The probability that they will not presents a truly horrific political challenge.
There has been much, understandable if ill-informed, sabre-rattling about "international intervention" in Burma. Aid specialists such as Oxfam's UK director, Barbara Stocking, argued convincingly against such adventures in the Guardian newspaper (May 14th).
External intervention, without the agreement of the Burmese authorities, would be, in legal terms, an invasion. One the council would have to resist to guarantee its own survival. Who would then deploy troops to protect the aid specialists - always assuming that the latter agreed to operate with illegal armed escorts?
Where would the line of moral justification lie in killing Burmese soldiers to save Burmese civilians? There should, of course, be an international legal framework to allow for intervention in such circumstances. But there isn't.
At national level we accept, and have made legal provision for, the common good exceptionally prevailing over individual rights. Fire fighters may break into buildings to rescue people, social workers remove children from their families, and public authorities compulsorily purchase property. Internationally, with the exception of deliberate genocide, there is no such acceptance or provision.
Almost 200 states operate on the basis of total national sovereignty as established by the 1648 Peace of Westphalia. Recognised national governments can do pretty much as they please within their own borders as long as they do not threaten others. Our infant international structures, mostly born in the wake of the second World War, are designed to deal primarily with the threat of war. The UN Security Council may only override national sovereignty to counter those who threaten world peace.
The idea of a broader collective global responsibility has been steadily gaining traction. In UN terminology this is called the "Right to Protect" or R2P. R2P received its first formal endorsement in April 2006 when Security Council Resolution 1674 recognised a "responsibility to protect populations from genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing and crimes against humanity".
While this was a milestone, there is still a long way to go before we achieve a broadly accepted, legal and operational system. The need is obvious and Irish votes have a unique opportunity to move things forward.
Jamie Smyth wrote in this newspaper recently: "Lisbon for the first time introduces a specific legal base for humanitarian aid . . . [the EU] is currently the single biggest provider of humanitarian aid globally. Lisbon would also create a European Voluntary Humanitarian Aid Corps."
Humanity needs global emergency services, legally established, equipped, trained, funded and prepared. Over a million of our sisters and brothers are struggling under an unnecessary death sentence in the Irrawaddy delta. They have no water, food, homes or hope.
We have all of these, including a chance to vote Yes for change on June 12th.