A World Without Drones? How a Global Movement Could Get Us There
Photo Credit: U.S. Air Force
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Two decades from now, social commentators may very well decide, with hindsight, that 2013 was an historic turning point. Humanity has an urgent choice to make about many monumental crises — including climate change, economic inequality, democracy for sale and resource wars — and opportunities.
One of the great decisions we face is about drones. This train is rapidly leaving the station, and it doesn’t take a crystal ball to see where it’s headed. In two decades it will likely be moot, but now we can still get in front of this locomotive. There is still time to imagine — and create — another future.
Part of reinventing the future hinges on the present’s anti-drone movement. In a few short years this effort has grown dramatically — even as the magnitude of the drone era has only gradually begun to sink in. With this growth comes the question: What is the ask? It is not enough to challenge this new technological leap. We must find a path to a world where these weapons are taboo.
Some of us have in mind a global treaty banning drones. An anti-drones treaty, if it becomes a reality, will likely be rooted in the emergent international movement against drones.
At the World Social Forum in Tunisia that took place this past March, an anti-drones workshop attended by participants from 15 nations decided to form a global anti-drones network. There is also talk about a global summit on anti-drones organizing in Britain at the end of November, where there is an increasingly vigorous movement led by the Drones Campaign Network and others. In the United States, this organizing is being advanced by Code Pink, Drones Watch, Know Drones, and the Network to Stop Drone Surveillance and Warfare, which helped sponsor a recent convergence in Syracuse, N.Y., and nationwide nonviolent actions against drones this past April.
When I was the national coordinator of an organization working to end the U.S. wars in Central America in the late 1980s, I got an impassioned letter from an activist in Louisiana arguing for a campaign focused on stopping the production of anti-personnel landmines being made in her state. The missive detailed the worldwide destruction these explosive devices were wreaking and urged that a concerted effort be launched to make them a thing of the past.
While we lent some support to this cry for help, it was not until 1991 that another Central America peace activist, Jody Williams, activated a bold and comprehensive plan to do something about landmines. Hired by the Vietnam Veterans of America Foundation to coordinate a new effort to ban the devices worldwide, Williams worked without an office or staff to stitch together a global movement that led to the promulgation of the Mine Ban Treaty in 1997, which has now been signed by 161 nations. Some of the globe’s heavy hitters have refused to sign — including the United States, China and Russia — but that’s why Williams and the effort she co-founded, The International Campaign to Ban Landmines, keep at it.
Even without universal compliance the treaty has made a difference. As the ICBL website reports, parties to the Mine Ban Treaty “must not use, develop, produce, acquire, stockpile, retain or transfer antipersonnel mines… Only a handful of states (not party to the treaty) and non-state armed groups continue to use antipersonnel landmines… Trade has come to a virtual halt.”
The Mine Ban Treaty is only one of numerous international agreements that have been steadily erecting the global armature of peace, justice and sustainability. Though we have far to go (as I am reminded by my students when we study the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, one of the greatest documents of this kind, whose 30 articles are violated daily), these initiatives commit states to steer clear of behavior that a global consensus has repudiated.