Work in Progress - Wilson's Ghost

Thereafter, Wilson's ghost haunted the 20th century : in the Second World War, in which 50 million people were killed; in the Cold War, with its nuclear fear and destructive "proxy" wars; and in the countless post- Cold War conflicts that threaten anarchy, death, and destruction.

We argue that fundamentally, the human race - in particular foreign and defense policy makers of the Great Powers - has not made the prevention of human carnage a central priority.

Beware of the temptation to believe that sustainable peace will be maintained simply by plotting to achieve an alleged "balance of power" without a strong international organization to enforce it.

For President Wilson had convinced many Americans that Armistice Day represented not merely the end of the most devastating war in world history, but also, in the phrase Wilson made famous, "the war to end all war".

"America," said Wilson, "is only the idealistic nation in the world."

Wilson failed the accomplish these objectives. In the end Germany was humiliated and embittered by the terms of the Treaty of Versailles, which required not only the ceding of vast tracts of land but also the payment of exorbitant reparations to Germany's European enemies.  Wilson's League of Nations, moreover, was rendered nearly irrelevant by America's absence from it, due to Wilson's failure to persuade the U.S Senate to ratify the treaty creating it. During a cross-country speaking tour in the summer of 1919 on behalf of the treaty, Wilson suffered a stroke, from which he never recovered. The Senate would vote down the League shortly thereafter. Thus did his personal tragedy reflect that of his country and his world.

The Moral Imperative - establish as a major goal of the U.S foreign policy, and indeed of foreign policies across the globe the avoidance in this century of the carnage - 160million dead - caused by the conflict in the 20th century

The Multilateral Imperative - recognize that the United States must provide leadership to achieve the objective of reduced carnage but, in doing so, it will not apply its economic, political, or military power unilaterally, other than in the unlikely circumstances of a defense of the continental United States, Hawaii, and Alaska.

Wilson was accused of being a native Idealist

Yet the tragic history of the 20th century that followed strongly suggests that Lloyd George and the other Europeans - self-style "realists" - might with considerable profit have listened more closely to the "idealist" from America.

Wilson believed that until the power to make war was given over in large part to an international body such as the League, there could be no insurance against the kind of miscalculation, paranoia, suspicion, and error-ridden decision making that had led to the First World War.

And only by means of Article X would it become clear that seeking unilateral advantage at the expense of others would not be tolerated and would thus, Wilson believed, be significantly deterred.

Without Article X, he believed, nations and leaders were bound to waver in moments of crisis, when "the will to war is everything," as it had been during the July crisis of 1914. Thus, there mut be no unilateral application of military force by any member of the League of Nations against any other member, under penalty of a guaranteed and proportionate military response by the forces of some or all of the other members.

Milos

By Anis Mojgani

Let us take a sack of spray paint and spray paint over the paintings.
Let dance through Paris;
kiss in the shadow of the Louvre,
crawl inside its windows,
scroll manifesto's over its canvas',
write Morris' code on the sculptures,
roll a sleeping bag on the floors to sleep inside of, tell one another a story by flashlight,
unearth everything from before,
burry each other inside the other,
feed grapes to the ants,
light fireworks in the fists of sleeping kings; kill a monarch.
Break back outside and find a world to do all these same things to;
up and upon against break the bricks, climb over them,
and when the sirens scream,
laugh aloud, hold my hand and run fast.
Run through the streets with me with a bunch of bottles,
a bucket of gasoline,
a mouthful of matches,
a pocket full of paintings and fresh faced batch of policemen to chase the fires we are lighting,
laugh on a shoulder of gold.
And i thought that the museums where cemeteries where the dead paid the wall to hold what we had so that we could walk through what we once were,
And children take their skulls to turn into gardens,
to pluck for forefathers and farther stars,
that on some nights resemble an armless mother praying for her arms to return.
Every tooth that we tear from our jaw to fling at the black gloved riot soldiers as another shadow that we are trying to lose.
Let every giggle be filled with lust; let us laugh this night away and i will fuck you like you were a prayer.
I could save me by having my mouth around you,
and i will hold you afterwards like you were the pulpit and i was the sky,
and this love that danced between that hardness was a telephone line of holiness that those two things spoke through.
Take me into your heart like i was a saint,
and you were a face of forgiveness blooming in a valley destined to sink further.
Be a river with me;
Be the storm;
the bend in the path;
the front porch; the heat in the south;
be a boot full of banjo strings;
a fist full of written songs;
a mouthful of chocolate dust.
When they come to take us,
stab them between the eyes.
Do not take your hand from around mine.
Make a fist with the other, and punch spines like guilds, spit, sweat, kiss them like a grandmother. How will open mouthed terror love filled?
And when they come to cut out hair and ask to hear penance come from inside us,
say with me loud and trembling,
but loud and clear that:
"i have already emptied myself. I kissed regret goodbye, took the hands of another backwards angel, and rode backwards into the rain"
When the hangman of morrow comes to hang the sun in its daily execution say this with me: "'Sarah we are apples, our love is an apple; im unbuttoning my shirt; painting a circle over my heart, please,, just shoot straight."

For Jane

225 days under grass and you know more than I. they have long taken your blood, you are a dry stick in a basket. is this how it works? in this room the hours of love still make shadows. when you left you took almost everything. I kneel in the nights before tigers that will not let me be. what you were will not happen again. the tigers have found me and I do not care.