Published Messenger Newspapers, Adelaide, Wednesday, April 24, 2002.


AND ONCE THEY WERE ENEMIES


WATCHING a re-run of a re-run of "Hogan's Heroes" on TV the other day, the Generation Xer on the other couch observed: ``We only know about the Geneva Convention from Hogan's Heroes.'' True enough and suddenly intrigued, off I went in search of the Geneva Convention. The one I found, dated 1900, presumes at the outset that the belligerents will uphold the ``laws and customs of war'' - a rather slippery concept on the barbaric evidence - and then goes on to list rules for the humane treatment of prisoners of war; the methods of war; the treatment of spies; and how truces, surrenders and armistices should be handled. It specifically forbids ``poison or poisoned arms''; ``to kill or wound treacherously''; actions that cause ``superfluous injury''; killing someone who is surrendering; and attacking undefended towns. No pillaging allowed, either, but no specific mention of rape. I was particularly interested to note that newspaper correspondents and reporters have to be treated as POWs - less than reassuring given the modern convention is to kill journalists in cold blood. Oddly, POWs can work for the ``public service, private persons or on their own account'' and have to receive the going rate of take-home pay. Is there a Union of Prisoners of War - UPOW? They also are entitled to free postage, and all gifts and relief packages must be duty free, which is not bad either. In many sections, the Convention contains the quaint standards of the times. For example, a POW can keep his personal belongings ``except arms, horses and military papers'', from when a horse counted for something. Trains and railways, the vital infrastructure of a century ago, also rate more mentions than they would now; and individuals ``sent in balloons'' to deliver despatches should not be considered spies. Uh-huh, the world has changed a lot but not, unfortunately, our capacity for slaughter or to equip ourselves with killing machines. The toll is marked again this Thursday, Anzac Day. Yet evidence of the utter futility of war is lying on the beaches of the Greek Isles, crowded cheek by jowl with leathery Germans reading the financial section of the Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung; in being jostled aside by busloads of Japanese tourists all trying to get the same snap of the 12 Apostles on the Great Ocean Rd; and in the growing numbers of Aussies who visit Vietnam. The carnage of mortal enemies has been replaced by tourism. Tourist dollars, not bullets, are the most powerful peacekeepers in the world today. Yet, at the same time, the Federal Treasurer keeps muttering about giving defence the top priority in next month's Budget, and the Australian Defence Association calls for an extra $5 billion. Bah! Give it to the tourism industry instead because whoever we are arming ourselves against in this generation will likely be back as tourists in the next.