Genocide Never Again
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Praise for books by Nobel Peace Prize finalist R. J. Rummel "26th in a Random House poll on the best nonfiction book of the 20th Century" Random House (Modern Library) “. the most important . in the history of international relations.” John Norton Moore Professor of Law and Director, Center for National Security Law, former Chairman of the Board of Directors of the U. S. Institute of Peace “. among the most exciting . in years.” Jim Powell “. most comprehensive . I have ever encountered . illuminating . .” Storm Russell “One more home run . .” Bruce Russett, Professor of International Relations “. has profoundly affected my political and social views.” Lurner B Williams “. truly brilliant . ought to be mandatory reading.” Robert F. Turner, Professor of Law, former President of U.S. Institute of Peace ". highly recommend . ." Cutting Edge “We all walk a little taller by climbing on the shoulders of Rummel’s work.” Irving Louis Horowitz, Professor Of Sociology. ". everyone in leadership should read and understand . ." DivinePrinciple.com “. .exciting . pushes aside all the theories, propaganda, and wishful thinking . .” www.alphane.com “. world's foremost authority on the phenomenon of ‘democide.’” American Opinion Publishing “. excellent . .” Brian Carnell “. bound to be become a standard work . .” James Lee Ray, Professor of Political Science “. major intellectual accomplishment . .will be cited far into the next century” Jack Vincent, Professor of Political Science.” “. most important . required reading . .” thewizardofuz (Amazon.com) “. valuable perspective . .” R.W. Rasband “ . offers a desperately needed perspective . .” Andrew Johnstone “. eloquent . very important . .” Doug Vaughn “. should be required reading . .shocking and sobering . .” Sugi Sorensen NEVER AGAIN Book 5 GENOCIDE NEVER AGAIN R.J. RUMMEL Llumina Press Copyright © 2005 Rudy Rummel All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, re- cording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from both the copyright owner and the publisher. Requests for permission to make copies of any part of this work should be mailed to Permissions Department, Llumina Press, PO Box 772246, Coral Springs, FL 33077- 2246 ISBN: 1-59526-075-7 1-59526-076-5 Printed in the United States of America by Llumina Press Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Rummel, R. J. (Rudolph J.), 1932- Genocide never again / R.J. Rummel. p. cm. -- (Never again ; bk. 5) ISBN 1-59526-075-7 (hardcover : alk. paper) -- ISBN 1-59526-076-5 (pbk. : alk. paper) 1. Genocide--Fiction. I. Title. II. Series. PS3568.U447G46 2005 813'.6--dc22 2005004369 Relevant books by R.J. Rummel: Understanding Conflict and War (five volumes) Lethal Politics: Soviet Genocide and Mass Murder Since 1917 China’s Bloody Century: Genocide and Mass Murder Since 1900 Democide: Nazi Genocide and Mass Murder Death By Government Power Kills: Democracy as a Method of Nonviolence Saving Lives, Enriching Life: Freedom as a Right and a Moral Good (online book) Never Again Series (Alternative History) War and Democide Never Again Nuclear Holocaust Never Again Reset Never Again Red Terror Never Again Genocide Never Again Never Again: Ending War, Democide, & Famine Through Democratic Freedom (forthcoming nonfiction supplement to the Never Again Series) Vietnam Never Again (forthcoming) Tell me, Professor, can we export democratic freedom to other countries? What a ridiculous question. Ridiculous? How can that be? It’s a question often asked by commentators, intellectuals, and academics. It’s ridiculous because freedom is the most basic human right. It is not being exported to other peoples. Rather, the chains are being removed that prevent people from enjoying this human right. Acknowledgements As with all my books in this series, I owe much to the thorough evaluation, many helpful suggestions, and careful editing of Marg Gilks. And I continue to be indebted to the many visitors to my web- site at www.hawaii.edu/powerkills/ who commented on or questioned the material there. They often had an impact on this series, and this particular book. Then, as always, and surely foremost, is my wife Grace. She con- tinues to make these novels possible. Without her at my side, I would not have written any of them. A hug, baby. To be sure, this is a book of fiction. Although some characters may in name and position bear a striking resemblance to historical figures, they are fictional. Nonetheless, I must say again that whatever errors of fictional facts exist are mine, and wholly mine. Chapter 1 September 11, 1911 Frankfurt, Germany Fourth Universe ayonet in hand, she stood over him as he slept. It was barely past midnight. He lay on his back under a woolen B blanket, and in the dark she could just make out his thin nose, heavy brows, and mustache. She didn’t have to see more. She had seen enough of his ugly face in the newspapers, when he received the Order of Merit from the Kaiser. She wanted to spit on him, but she would do that afterward. This so-called hero of Germany was nothing more than an obscene mass murderer. She knew by heart what he had once said about his bru- tality in suppressing native African resistance to German occupation in Africa. As she looked over his sleeping body to find the perfect place to thrust the knife, she repeated it to herself: “I wipe out rebellious tribes with streams of blood and streams of money. Only following this cleansing can something new emerge.” She had read and reread that passage in disbelief that such evil could exist in a civilized man’s heart. Because of his reputation for success, in 1904 the Kaiser sent him to German Southwest Africa to suppress a rebellion of the Herero tribe. His ten thousand well-armed German soldiers did more than defeat the poorly armed warriors. They killed Herero whether armed or not, sometimes whole families, and drove the rest into the Kalahari Desert. And then they poisoned the wells. She remembered very well one more thing: his extermination order. She looked at this butcher who was breathing his last and, again draw- ing on her special talent for remembering her theater lines, she repeated the order to herself, her imagined voice a low growl. “All the Herero must leave the land. If they refuse, then I will force them to do it with the big guns. Any Herero found within German borders, with or with- out a gun, will be shot. No prisoners will be taken. This is my decision for the Herero people.” 2 R. J. Rummel All this was evil enough. But what drove her here was what he said about women and children: To receive women and children, most of them ill, is a serious danger to the German troops. And to feed them is an impossibility. I find it appropriate that the nation perishes instead of infecting our soldiers. His orders were carried out. Out of about eighty thousand Herero, no more than fifteen thousand survived. And it was not only the Her- ero. He also had murdered the rebellious Nama, killing over ten thousand of them—more than half the tribe. He had the rest incarcer- ated in concentration camps, where many more died slowly of disease and mistreatment. Yes, she thought, you are the Kaiser’s hero. But not a hero for all Germans. Not for me. She found the spot. Positioning herself, she spread her legs, raising the bayonet above his body with two hands. She hesitated, marveling at the power she now had over this famous general’s life. Then her eyes narrowed to slits and she compressed her lips into a thin line as she tightened her grip on the bayonet. With all her strength, she plunged it straight down, through the blanket and into his heart. He gasped. His eyes jerked open and his body heaved, his feet drumming against the mattress. Then he fell back. He was still as his final breath rattled out of him. His eyes remained open. Staring into the flames of hell, she thought. She put her finger on the carotid vein in his throat to feel for a heartbeat. Satisfied there was none, she tried to withdraw her bayonet, but it was stuck in his sternum. She had to climb onto the bed and put her knee on his stomach to get the leverage to wiggle it out. She cleaned it on the sheet. Standing beside the bed again, she reached into the pocket of her black pants and took out the note she’d prepared for him. She leaned over him and pinned the note to his nostril with one of the pins she had used to keep her hair in place under her black cap. Then she spit on him. As she left by the way she’d slipped in, she took one last look over her shoulder at his body. “Goodbye. Nice meeting you, General von Trotha. I guess we will never meet again.” Chapter 2 March 30, 1912 Sambayat, Turkey Fourth Universe Peter Kahan he sky was azure blue and dotted with fluffy, white clouds. Be- neath it, a convoy of young women and children shuffled into T the town and down the main road. All bore the look of death. Some stumbled, some were helped along; some, the youngest ones, nearly skeletons, were carried in the bony arms of their mothers. Some wore ragged clothes. Some none. All were filthy. All stared down at their bare feet with cavernous eyes and sunken cheeks. Those who were naked were helped by a gentle, surprisingly warm breeze blowing up from the desert to the south. Combined with the bright sun, it overcame the normal spring chill and made for a comfort- able coatless day.