In the essence of Vollmann’s writing style, I will follow his spirit and write boundlessly and diffused in mirroring him of allowing the reader to enter my mind and thoughts. That’s what Rising Up and Rising Down really is, aboarding Vollman’s train of philosophical ideas and beliefs about violence, death, weapons, and its ethics; and atypical as he is not a philosopher, but has an amalgamation of first hand experience. Vollmann’s integrity to understanding and comprehending experience, and to its highest capacity verbalize it, is refreshing. People will sacrifice their artistic uprightness for what the publisher wants, for the sales, for what the audience wants. And so I respect his approach, and tapping into my schema of the ideal writer, he documents his ideas and experiences for the sake of its own sake. But let’s get back on track with this train‒and head straight into Chapter 2: On the Morality of Weapons.
In the beginning, he starts off with quotes that illuminate the different perspectives on the morality of weapons and how it has changed across time and space. Vollmann claims that the knife and the gun provide three things: security, autonomy, and power (I, p. 109). When referring to Trotsky on his supportive stance of the Communist Party to arm the Chinese Proletariat, he wrote, “A people that today, with weapon in hand, knows how to deal with one robber, will tomorrow know how to deal with the other one.” While “the other one” refers to the class enemy, Vollmann shortly notes that this “logic would apply to any “other one.”” I liked this small piece, and this says to me that once the power of the weapon has been introduced, it can and will be yielded upon others who may not be your predisposed enemy but an enemy conjured‒time is linear and there is no reversal of opening Pandora’s box. Vollmann continues with this thesis that this power doesn’t just garner respect to the armed individual, but that it can lead to the self-respect of said individual. That the security the power provides is a prerequisite for autonomy, and considering everything in relativity, Vollmann states the “incapacity to do evil is of course a relative good)” but “when we reduce the evildoer to that state we are doing the right and necessary thing for us, and only incidentally for him (by, say, preserving his existence at the price of rendering him helpless).” Isn’t that just a concept that causes one to snicker and slightly shake their head? Vollmann, on brand, ends the paragraph referring to how men capable of evil were bestowed weapons in ancient Athens, and we do not read about the “men whose virtue was that they could not harm the polity.” To distinguish the evildoer and the men capable of evil is notable, but autonomy and self- respect is in absolute terms (I, p. 110).
The Amorality of Empowerment
Vollmann
examines the morality of weapons in the frame of self-defense. People have advocated and defended the use of weapons because it is their only means to stop and defend themselves if they are found in the position of the intended victim; that if we cannot rely
upon the authorities to protect me, then I have to rely upon myself to do so. Therefore, Vollmann believes that justifiable homicides are another relative good, because if they have to be committed then it ought to and better be justifiable (I, p. 111).When
given the statistics of criminal acts perpetrated in Washington in 1993, 86% of the assailants that were armed were armed with a handgun. It seems to me criminals love handguns, but I suppose I can say that these victims would’ve loved to have a gun during
the time of said wicked acts.
Of Crimson Storms and Their Weathermen
When
everyone has a weapon, there will be undirected violence. People will defend their rights to a weapon but the double-edged sword is that undirected violence will occur as a result to everyone having a weapon. What is elluded is that violence is almost inherent
in some people, and that it is a given that it will occur. “Instead of double-edged swords, our Blues and Greens carry double-edged guns with which they kill their enemies, their friends, strangers, lost souls, lost children. Take their guns away, and at
least some of them will go back to swords” (I, p. 113). Even if the gun is taken away, is it that violence is intrinsic in some that we will never be truly free from the chances of a violent death? Is nature something to condemn?
A Note From the Ambassador
Vollmann
leads to the idea that the power of the weapon is equivalent in both the hands of the murderer, and the watchful householder. Choosing to take a step back, he turns to look at not the morality of the weapon but the degree of necessity. A dilemma, if you have
one then I must have one, and when the gun is acquired it becomes a part of me (I, p. 114). It forces people in the position that if I have the power to take, I will use that power to disregard yours and to preserve my own. If it’s either you or me, I will
choose me everytime.
Mantras and Blood-Stained Snow
Occasionally,
the power that is provided by the weapon: security, autonomy, and power, can be granted by nonviolence as well. There is something about living with radical integrity, there is a power and serenity to it. But there’s always a looming doubt whether we are right
or not. So we find our strength in numbers and turn into a mob while the “saint practices nonviolence in isolation” (I, p. 115).
My Gun Was My Rosary
Vollmann recounts multiple anecdotes of women who were placed in a position where having a gun would’ve and could’ve been their savior.
He
tells the story of his wife asking him to walk her dog with her because she didn’t feel safe to do so alone. The night they went out, two men approached them but Vollmann signaled that he was carrying a loaded weapon. The men sneered and walked away. Vollmann
did not feel intimidated, he felt powerful because he had the miracle of his gun to save their lives if needed.
But the Rosary Confers No Eternal Life
Vollmann
addresses the problems that arise when examining the principles of other weapons besides guns and knives. He mentions the case of the Japanese terrorist group, Aum Supreme Truth and how they used chemical warfare to kill people in the subways of Tokyo. The
nature of chemical warfare contains an issue of controllability. Therefore, Vollmann notes, “…so often in this study of violence, that principles can’t be easily nailed down, that merely knowing the tool of violence employed is insufficient; we must also
be apprised of the relation between victim and perpetrator” (I, p. 122). Then he continues and asserts in his opinion, that the weapon chosen hardly matters most of the time, because the victims aren’t just the people who experience it directly but also the
people who suffer second handedly through hearing about it from rumors or the media. That weapons increase the chances of killing and hurting without intent, and these wounds will leave permanent cavities. More weapons, more death, more cavities, and neither
party will concede. How can you concede when your life is in the hand of the other and you’d be much more likely to believe that will give yours up before theirs?
The Rainbow of Le Chambon
Vollmann brings up the story of Le Chambon, a pacifist French village that helped save thousands of Jews from the Nazis, and a soldier named Philip Hallie struggles with knowing where his heart lay. Did it lie in the necessary violent war to stop Hitler, or within the mountain village? He is given his answer when a lady, whose children were saved by the village, tells him that the Holocaust was a storm and Le Chambon was the rainbow. Hallie’s account, to be quite honest, brought some tears to my eyes. How powerful peace and mercy and righteousness is; how it can serve as the single light post in the vastest, and darkest ocean; a flare of warmth from a fire in the coldest tundra; a rainbow in the storm.
This
goodness can only be utilized against the opponent if there is humanity within them to begin with.
The Stability Which Can Only Rest in a Fanatical Outlook
Vollmann analyzes Gandhi and his beliefs on nonviolence, most notably his line, “Impotence is in men” (I, p.132). Vollmann has an objection to this, and his response is, “What about the gassed children?” Should this impotence be seen as a fault of the children? And what about their capability of even being a martyr? People suffer and die, and it ought to mean something but at what lines have to be crossed to reach martyrdom that was never asked for to begin with? Vollmann grapples with Gandhian principles as they relate to his own life and he still doesn’t know whether they’re wrong or not. If anything, this nonviolence and submission would’ve, Vollmann relates, made him “feel even more foolish and worthless than I already did” (I, p. 133). The maxim of “do unto others as you would that others do unto you” was contrasted with the maxim “do unto others as you hope and expect that others will do unto you.” Vollmann explains that satyagraha is only valid so long as the sacrifice is for something, and that eventually this sacrifice is powerful enough that it will cause the perpetrator to halt his aggression. Vollmann asserts that if one or both conditions are not met, then counter-violence would be justified (I, p. 134).
Emotional Attachments or the Pursuit of Unsullied Joy
The
main story woven through this piece is his wife going out to walk with her dog, and while she is gone, Vollmann ruminates over all of the violent things he has seen and experienced. He is gathering his thoughts and comes to believe that nonviolence and satyagraha
can only be followed by people who have voluntarily become emotionally unattached (I, p. 135). Brutal nightmares come to him, and while he is lost in his ocean of violent images, he continuously notices that his wife has not returned despite it getting darker
and darker outside (I, p. 136). He declares that he will take action, and commit violence if he needed to, to help her. He has an emotional attachment to her and he will reject nonviolence for sullied joy, to save his wife (I, p. 137).
Continuum of the Right to Bear Arms & Guns in the USA 2000
Quotes given through a span of time, the earliest dating back to 1787, in support of the right to bear arms (I, p. 138).
Inclusion of a photo essay, a compilation of pictures of guns in the USA. To illustrate the power given by the gun to the wielder, with a more positive tone. Vollman sees the distinction of gun culture between the city and the country, and decides to display those voices, and everything in between.
–KD