Montana rail plan

The majority of traffic generated along this line con- sisted primarily of lumber and wood products and was trans- ported by rail from a lone shipper in Pablo. A very limited amount of fertilizer was shipped by rail into Ronan for distribution to area farmers. While the shippers agree that rail is more convenient, the lower rates and faster service provided by the truckers on bulk fertilizer shipments makes trucking an attractive alternative. Furthermore, since trucks characteristically handle smaller volumes, the shipper has less money tied up in inventory costs which is beneficial to businesses struggling to survive in today's economy. 6-4 For lumber and wood products, rail rates are currently lower than truck rates. Since the customer dictates how a commodity is to be shipped, with the lower rail freight rates it is predictable that rail shipments will prevail. This line is included in the proposed sale to MRL and as of this writing we are uncertain of its future status. The following section describes previously studied lines and reports any changes since the time of the original analy- sis . Sappington to Harrison - BNRR, 9.08 miles This line, previously classified as Category 1 in the 1984 Update, has been restored to Category 5 (no immediate abandon- ment plans) . This change is somewhat misleading because there has been very little traffic generated over the line in the past five years and that trend is not expected to change in the future. There is speculation that the reclassification is tied to the proposed sale of the southern line. Three Forks to Whitehall - BNRR, 31.7 miles This line was designated a Category 5 line in the 1984 Rail Plan Update and the designation remains unchanged. The majority of the traffic originated on the Whitehall to Alder branchline, but with the relocation of the major shipper to Three Forks traffic volumes on this segment will be reduced.


Montana county profiles

Classifications are based on the 1972 edition of the Standard Industrial C lass i f icat ion Hanua I and its 1977 supplement The SIC System facilitates the collection, tabulation, presentation, and analysis of data relating to business industrial, and other types of establishments. It also promotes uniformity and comparability in the presentation of statistical data collected by various government agencies, trade associations and private research organizations. Labor Force: Persons 16 years old and over, employed or unemployed, constitute the civilian labor force The civilian labor force and members of the Armed Forces constitute the labor force. "Not in labor force" refers to persons 16 years old and over consisting mainly of students, housewives, retired workers seasonal workers in an off' season who are not looking for work, inmates of institutions disabled persons, and persons doing only incidental unpaid family work (fewer than 15 hours a week). Also included are the discouraged workers" who do not have a job and have given up actively looking for work B - 1 Mean/Med i an/Per Capita Averages: An arithmetic mean is the sum of the values of all items divided by the number of items. Sometimes called the simple average, the mean is used most frequently although it is not always the most meaningful descriptor. Because a mean is affected by very large or very small numbers, a median value may be more useful when considering small sets of numerical data. Median is the value that divides the distribution (lowest to highest or vice versa) into two equal parts, one half the items falling below this value and one half exceeding this value. If there is an even number of items, the median is the average of the two middle items. Per Capita is an average computed for every person in a specified population; the total value of an item divided by the number of persons in the specified population.


Migratory bird ... hunting regulations, State of Montana

GENERAL REGULATIONS Means of Taking — Migratory birds may be taken only with bow and arrow or shotgun not larger than ten gauge incapable of holding more than three shells fired from the shoulder. May not be taken from or by means, or aid of, or use of a sinkbox, air¬ craft, motor vehicle, or motor-driven conveyance of any kind, except a motorboat when the motor has been shut off and the boat has stopped. Use of any electronic or phonographic waterfowl-calling de¬ vice is illegal. Steel shot — It is unlawful for anyone to use or possess a shotgun shell or ammunition loaded with or containing other than steel shot, while hunting, taking or attempting to take waterfowl or coots. Possession of “other than steel shot” means in the gun, or in the pockets, or within reach while in the process of waterfowl hunting. Shot, other than steel, left in a vehicle, while parked in the waterfowl hunting area, would not be considered “in posses¬ sion” forthe purpose of hunting. Restrictions — No person shall take migratory birds by driving, rallying, or chasing birds with any motorized conveyance or any sail boat to put them in range of the hunter; by the aid of baiting (placing feed such as corn, wheat, salt, or other feed to con¬ stitute a lure or enticement). Hunters should be aware that a baited area is considered to be baited for 10 days after the removal of the bait, and it is not necessary for the hunter to know an area is baited to be in violation. Hunting Hours — One half hour before sunrise to sunset except on the Flathead Indian Reservation, the hunting hours shall be sunrise to sunset. Leave Wing Attached — One fully feathered wing must remain attached to the carcass of each bird (except doves) in the field for identification and aging.


Encyclopedia of Arabic Literature

Equally arbitrary has been the inclusion of some North African writers writing mainly (or in a few cases, exclusively) in French, where the gen- eral cultural context has suggested an exception to the usual principle that ‘Arabic literature’ is ‘literature written in Arabic’. For the medieval period, the scope of ‘literature’ has not been restricted to belles-lettres but has been extended to other types of writing — history, biography, geography, philosophy and so on — as medieval writers and readers did not make the same distinctions between various types of ‘literature’ as do modern ones. The principles on which the volume has been organized are largely self-explanatory. Medieval and transitional period authors have been entered under their shuhra (the best known element of their name), with cross- references where necessary. Modern authors have been entered under the final, or family, element of their name, with cross-references in the few cases where readers might perhaps have expected to find the entry elsewhere. For the medieval and transitional periods, dates have been given according to both the Islamic (AH/hijri) and Christian (AD/CE/miladi) calendars, but for the modern period hijri dates have not been included. Cross-references (in bold) within entries, and ‘See also’ refer- ences at the end of some entries, indicate other, related entries. For transliteration from Arabic and Persian the International Journal of Middle East Studies system has been used, as set out in detail on page xvii. Further informa- tion on Arabic names and some other technical points may be found in the Glossary (pp. 830-4); for further information on chronol- ogy, readers should consult the dynastic tables on pp. 835-41. For reasons of space, no attempt has been made to compile exhaustive bibliographies for individual entries. The primary object has been to list translations and to refer the reader, where possible, to other secondary sources for further information on the subject of the entry; entries for classical authors may list published editions of the writer’s main works, but this has not been thought practicable in the case of modern writers.


Encyclopedia of Arabic Literature

Baghdad became a magnet for scholars and men of letters, and retained politi- cal and cultural importance throughout the ‘Abbasid period. The cities of Basra and Kufa conducted a lively cultural exchange with the capital, and as the ‘Abbasids extended their hegemony, other regions — notably Khurasan — came under their cultural influence. The ‘Abbasid ‘revolution’ had been fuelled in part by the aspirations of the mawali (Muslims of non-Arab descent), who hoped that the new dynasty would make good the egalitarian principles preached by Islam. The administrative system was established on the Sasanian model, and mawali (especially of Persian descent) entered the state bureaucracy in increasing numbers. Persian, Greco-Byzan- tine and Aramean traditions were absorbed into the Arabic-Islamic milieu, producing a cultural florescence hitherto unequalled — even though, in many ways, literary develop- ments built on tendencies already seen in the late Umayyad period. The influence of Sasanian imperial traditions led gradually to the caliph being seen as an absolute monarch who, addressed as ‘shadow of God’, was ‘a magnificent figure, remote in a world of awesome luxury, walled off by an elaborate courtly etiquette, whose casual word was obeyed like divine law’ (Hodgson, Venture, 1: 283). Veiled from ordinary mortals by a screen, approachable only through a chain of officials and with elaborate rituals of submis- sion, his power of life and death over his subjects was symbolized by the executioner who was always at his side. The actual admin- istration was left largely to powerful viziers, such as the Barmakids, and to court officials. A second consequence of non-Arab cultural influence was the growth of the Shu‘ubiyya, a reaction on the part of non-Arabs (in particular, secretaries and poets) to Arab claims of literary ‘Abbasids and cultural superiority, which was at its most intense in the third/ninth and fourth/tenth cen- turies.


Encyclopedia of Arabic Literature

Ibn al-Hajjaj and Ibn Sukkara cultivated both mujiin and the style of sukhf; Abii Dulaf composed his Qasida Sasaniyya for the Sahib; Aba al-Mutahhar al-Azdi’s Hikadyat Abi al- 8 Qasim al-Baghddadi described the low-life of Baghdad. Such tendencies reflect the generally tolerant atmosphere of the period; to see the Biyid age as one of unrestrained licence and corruption is to diminish its very real achievements. These include a massive burst in the anthologizing of both earlier and contem- porary poetry and prose by al-Abi and al- Raghib al-Isfahani, to name only two exam- ples. Abi: al-Faraj al-Isbahani’s Kitab al- Aghani was composed for the vizier al- Muhallabi. Ibn al-Nadim’s Fihrist is a com- prehensive list of Arabic works produced to the end of the fourth/tenth century, with valuable comments; al-Tha‘alibi’s Yatimat al-dahr (continued by al-Bakharzi and ‘Imad al-Din al-Isfahani) provides informa- tion on poets and prose writers of the period, with often extensive samples of their work. Major works of literary criticism were pro- duced by such writers as al-Amidi and al- Qadi al-Jurjani, along with important com- mentaries like that of al-Marziiqi on Abi Tammam’s Hamdsa. Not least among the achievements of this period was the elabor- ation of Shi‘i law and theology by such scholars as Ibn Babawayh, and of Mu'tazili theology by, for example, the Qadi ‘Abd al- Jabbar of Rayy. Shi‘i-orientated poetry was written by the likes of Mihyar al-Daylami (the chief exponent of what S. Sperl has termed the ‘mannerist’ style) and the brothers al-Sharif al-Murtada and al-Radi; the latter is also credited with compiling the Nahj al- balagha, a compendium of sayings attributed to ‘Ali ibn Abi Talib, and his correspondence with Abu Ishaq al-Sabi’ and others became a model of epistolary style.


Encyclopedia of Arabic Literature

Al-Nasir (whose efficient spy-system, and tolerance of Shi‘ and other heterodoxies, did not meet with universal approval) aspired to restore the authority of the caliphate. Perhaps his most remarkable achievement was his patronage of the futuwwa brotherhoods; in 578/1182 he officialized one such brotherhood and placed himself at its head, inviting other Muslim rulers, both Sunni and moderate Shi‘t, to join under his leadership. In 604/1207 he declared all other brotherhoods illegal and announced that he, the caliph, entrusted with maintaining the sacred Law, was the model for others to follow; and in 608/1211 al-Nasir succeeded in wooing the leader of the Nizari Isma‘ilis into his following, under the aegis of Sunnism. One of his advisers, the famous Sifi Shaykh ‘Umar ibn Muhammad _ al- Suhrawardi, conceived a theory for unifying the caliphate, the futuwwa, and Sufism. Al- Nasir’s activities reflect a tendency towards synthesis of various esoteric and heterodox doctrines under Sunni Islam; the teachings of the futuwwa and of Sufism have much in common both with each other and with those of the Isma‘ilis — and in this period, all three were moving towards a coalescence. Mysti- cism and mystical writings, orthodox and heterodox theology, and gnosticism (reflected in the interest in astrology, alchemy and magic), all heavily coloured by esotericism, flourished. Al-Nasir’s dream of a restored caliphate was not to be realized. The caliph, involved in a succession struggle among the Saljiaq atabeks, sought the help of the Khwarazmshah Takesh against the sultan Tughril II and his supporters; after defeating and killing Tughril in battle in 693/1194, Takesh occupied the former Saljiq territories. Iran and Iraq were devasted by successive waves of invaders, and were briefly absorbed into the Khwarazm- shah’s empire, which — stretched from Transoxiana to the Caspian, and which itself fell to the Mongols shortly after (see further Khwarazm).


Encyclopedia of Arabic Literature

SADGROVE abridgements (Ar. mulakhkhas, mukhtasar, tahdhib and re- lated terms.) Abridgements scarcely appear in Arabic writing before the fourth/tenth century; this is not surprising, since they presuppose the existence of lengthy works in a fixed form, and early books often underwent revision and reformulation in the course of transmission. In fact, the appearance of abridgements can be said to mark the emergence of a concept of the written work similar to the one we are familiar with today. The motives for making abridgements were various. In some cases it was felt that a book was simply too long and could easily be shor- tened by omission of the isnads; al-Tabari’s Koran commentary was one work subjected to this treatment. In other cases the impulse was didactic, as for instance with the seventh/ thirteenth-century grammarian and legal scholar Ibn al-Hajib, who owed much of his reputation to his ability to abridge and com- ment on the works of his predecessors. Again, a work might be considered too complicated for the average cultivated reader to peruse: this was one of the reasons why Ibn Rushd abridged Aristotle’s works. Finally, parts of the original work might have ceased to be understood: as far as can be established, all the abridgers of Abii al-Faraj al-Isbahani’s Kitab al-Aghani leave out the musical indications for performing the songs, and one writer admits that they were meaningless to singers in his day. Sometimes the abridger was the author of the original work — like al-Mas‘iidi, who claims to have extracted from his historical summum an intermediate (awsat) study — but usually another writer took the task upon himself. The abridgement is almost always an interpretation of the original; this is especially evident in adab books, with their multifarious content, where one adapter may prefer the poetry, another the entertaining anecdotes, and a third historical narratives.


Encyclopedia of Arabic Literature

Though blind from an early age, he made a career in Syria as a poet and scholar. In his thirties he set out for Bagh- dad, but left after a short period: the city did not agree with him, and vice versa. He was, it seems, not prepared to make a living with flattering panegyrics; there are reports of friction with such leading Baghdadi figures as al-Sharif al-Murtada. After his return to Ma‘arra in 400/1010 he chose a life of seclu- sion at home, until his death almost fifty years later. His brilliant early poetry, collected in Saqt al-zand (The Spark from the Fire-stick), owes much to al-Mutanabbi. It includes a group of poems (called al-Dir‘iyyat) devoted to the description of armour; some of them are dramatic monologues put into the mouths of 24 coats-of-mail. His second collection of poems, Luziim ma la yalzam or al-Luziimiyyat, is very different and unconventional. It owes its title to the self-imposed constraint of ‘rich rhyme’, with two rhyme-consonants, and the inclusion of poems on every rhyme-letter, including unusual ones, in four forms (ending in each of the three vowels or unvowelled). The style is highly ornate, with much _ paronomasia, unusual diction and many learned allusions. Instead of conventional gasidas the collection contains mostly short poems of hikma and zuhd (see zuhdiyya). The poet shows himself a pessimist, full of scepticism and fatalism. No consistent philosophy is to be extracted from the Luzimiyyat — though some later writers have accused al-Ma‘arri, probably unjustly, of heresy and unbelief. Among his prose works, by far the most famous is Ris@lat al-ghufran (The Epistle of Forgiveness), in which a scholar, Ibn al-Qarih, is mockingly depicted as a hypocrite who visits heaven and hell and engages in discus- sions with poets, scholars and heretics from earlier ages.


Encyclopedia of Arabic Literature

The book is a strange mixture of highly imaginative and sometimes daring satire - among other things, on popular ideas on the hereafter — and philological pedantry. Original too is al-Sahil wa-al-shahij (The Neigher and the Brayer), rediscovered only in recent times, in which political events of the time are discussed by a horse, a mule and other animals. It is addressed to the Fatimid gover- nor of Aleppo — but not, it seems, without a measure of irony. This work, too, contains lengthy philological digressions. It shows, as do some of his other works, that al-Ma‘arri, in spite of his seclusion and ascetic way of life, was not entirely cut off from contemporary society and politics. He was, after all, a much respected figure and was visited by numerous pupils and scholars. A work with religious and moralistic admonitions in rhymed prose, alphabetically arranged and entitled al-Fusul wa-al-ghayat (Paragraphs and Periods), was supposed by some later writers to be a blasphemous attempt to surpass the Koran (see i*ja@z al-Qur’an and mu‘ arada). He wrote commentaries on the poetry of al- Mutanabbi, Abi Tammam and al-Buhturi, as well as on some of his own works. Many other works are listed by the biographers, but most of them have not been preserved. Al-Ma‘arri liked to call himself ‘twice- confined’, i.e. by his blindness and his seclu- sion; in an epigram he mentions a third prison: his soul in his body. One might add several more: as a writer, he is imprisoned in a style dominated by philology (grammar, lexico- graphy, prosody) and poetry; as a thinker, he is the prisoner of his pessimism and misan- thropy. His extraordinary knowledge of Arabic language and poetry is employed in highly intricate ways, disguising his ideas in the form of riddies and rhetorical ornament.


Encyclopedia of Arabic Literature

Ibn al- Mu‘tazz, Safi al-Din al-Hilli) are all depen- dent on him. In his khamriyyat, Abi Nuwas describes the appearance of the wine (often through comparisons with jewels or light), its age, its effect on the drinkers — but also the young man or girl who serves the wine, the male or female singer who entertains the boon companions, and many more things. His hunting-poems were composed pre- dominantly in the rajaz metre (urjiizas). Very often, they begin with a description of the early morning and the riding out to the hunt, and then mainly contain descriptions of the animals trained for hunting (e.g. the hound, the falcon) and of different kinds of game. These poems excel because of their rich and difficult bedouin vocabulary. (See fardiyya.) Abii Nuwas’s panegyrics consist partly in qasida form and partly in longer or shorter monothematic poems (qit‘a). The gasidas are usually in-two parts (prologue and madih, rahil and madih), less often in three (nasib, rahil and madih). Remarkable in this respect is the fact that the poet frequently replaces the nasib, which conventionally forms the prologue of the gasida, with a parody of the topic (mocking the weeping at the deserted traces of the camp) or a completely different topic (description of wine, a hunting scene). The main part of the poem consists of the (mostly hyperbolic) praise of the addressee’s virtues. Concerning the love poems it is noteworthy that al-Sali (and also the other diwan redac- tors) divide them into those addressed to young men (:mudhakkarat — about two-thirds) and those addressed to women (mu annathat — about one-third). However, these two types can usually scarcely be distinguished and in many cases the redactors disagree as to how to classify a poem, all the more so as the girls are sometimes denoted ‘ala al-tadhkir with the pronoun of the masculine gender.


Encyclopedia of Arabic Literature

In addition, he composed four dramas in verse. He spent most of his professional career in the diplomatic service of his country, holding ambassadorial posts in Brazil, India and Austria. Abi Risha is the most prominent Syrian representative of the Romantic mode in mod- ern Arabic poetry. His poetry demonstrates the main strands of his cultural formation, namely a profound knowledge of and expertise in classical Arabic poetry, and an enthusiasm for the later English Romantics such as Keats, Shelley and Byron. His enthusiasm for French literature was more muted, apart from a clear admiration for the work of Baudelaire. In terms of form and language, Abi Risha is probably the most ‘conservative’ of the Arab Romantics, although few if any of his more radical contemporaries could rival his com- mand of the language of poetry. His clear concern for social and political issues also lifts his verse beyond their largely egocentric limits — yet his highly subjective approach to such themes situates him firmly among the Romantics. The close fusion of the socio- political and the subjective makes him akin in some respects to the Tunisian Abi al-Qasim al-Shabbi. Abi Risha’s amatory poetry reveals the traditonal Romantic preoccupation with the dualism of physical passion and platonic love, although to a much less intense degree than the work of Abu Shabaka. He will be remem- bered primarily for his concern with political issues, and the succession of defeats suffered by Arab aspirations in the twentieth century. One of his best-known treatments of such a theme is his poem Nisr: the humiliation of an aged eagle is simultaneously a natural tragedy, and a symbol of the sorry state to which the Syrian nation and Arab nationalism has been reduced — and, one suspects, a symbol of the poet’s own existence.


Encyclopedia of Arabic Literature

After pursuing medical studies in England from 1912 to 1922, Abi Shadi returned to Egypt, where he embarked on a career of remarkable talent and variety. His consuming passions were liter- ature, painting and bee-keeping, and he founded a number of scientific and agricultural societies; in the course of a distin- guished academic career he was appointed to the Chair of Bacteriology in the University of Alexandria in 1942. Abii Shadi was outstanding among the academics, intellectuals and men of letters who graced Egyptian cultural life from inde- pendence to the Second World War. Most literary histories pay fulsome tribute to his contribution to modern Arabic literature as the founder and editor of the Apollo magazine and as the creator of the Apollo Society. There is no doubt that, without his tireless efforts and financial backing, the review might not have seen the light of day, and many younger writers would have missed this crucial outlet for their work, as well as the unflagging sup- port and encouragement which Abu Shadi gave them. The evaluation of his own poetry is sometimes obscured by his role as editor of Apollo and position as figure-head in the movement as a whole; it is also made more difficult by the enormous bulk of his work, and by its uneven quality. He was the author of no fewer than nineteen collections of poetry, some of them extremely lengthy, as well as scripts intended as operas, some translations and literary studies. Two aspects of Abii Shadi’s poetic oeuvre stand out: his love-poetry and his nature- poetry. Throughout his collections, numerous poems are written to Zaynab, a female figure who may have originated in an unrequited love-affair dating from before his studies in England. This was also the title of his first diwan published in 1924 after his return to Egypt.


The Military Chaplains' Review

My task, as I understand it, is to show how certain traditional philosophical positions have identified and illuminated what or- dinary people are doing when they think about morality and when they try to make moral decisions. I shall choose for analysis those positions which, to my mind, have caught hold of some en- during feature or features of moral decision-making — enduring from the point of view of persons living in modern industrial societies, with whom the Army is most likely to deal. I shall both examine and evaluate these positions, suggesting their de- ficiencies, as well as what it is about them that is "most likely to retain more than ephemeral usefulness" (in the words of the outline describing the paper topics) . It is assumed in this paper that moral instruction consists, in part at least, in helping people to learn to participate con- sciously and competently in moral discussion and in moral re- flection about their own and other people's behavior. Of course people frequently do these things, but they are not always fully aware of what they are doing, nor do they always have full understanding of "the rules of the game" that implicitly guide conversations and reflection in the moral area. One way to get a feel for these rules, and to begin to develop competence in moral discussion and deliberation, is to observe prominent figures in the field. To see how they argue, what issues concern them, how they resolve difficulties that are thrown up to them — such observation is, I believe, a central part of moral instruction. In this paper I have chosen three moralists who are very prominent in the tradition, figures who have exerted and continue to exert considerable influence on the way people think about morals. In many ways, their arguments are paradigms of arguments one still hears all the time.


The Military Chaplains' Review

If, when you ask me why you oughtn't to lie, I tell you that lying will cause large rocks to fall on your head, we would not think much of that justification. The explanation is that the reasons given in support of the action-guide are not relevant. As we shall see, several moral positions rely heavily on being able to show that lying, stealing, murdering and the like cause bad consequences to the performer. Obviously, these positions fall to the ground unless they can make their case stick. If they cannot make it stick, then they will be in the same boat I am in when I assert that lying causes large rocks to fall on liars' heads. The first test any justification must pass, then, is that of relevance. Another test that must be passed is that of consistency. If I claim that lying is bad, and go around censuring people who lie, and yet I exempt myself from the prescription without any "good reason/* you will smell a rat. But not only does the test of consistency dictate that like cases be judged alike, it also dictates, generally speaking, that satisfactory justification pro- ceed in an "appellate" fashion, in such a way that "lower," more specific action-guides can be shown to derive consistently (or logically) from higher, more general principles. Thus, as- suming one could show, for instance, that lying undermines the fabric of trust on which human cooperation depends, and assum- ing that human cooperation is considered to be "good," the re- striction against lying would seem justified, since the reasons given in support appear to be consistent with one another. It is worth stressing that an important part of moral reason- ing has to do with this appellate pattern of justification, by which an individual attempts, when pressed, to appeal to "higher courts" or to more general principles, until he reaches the "su- preme court" of his moral system, or what we shall call his basic moral prescription.


The Military Chaplains' Review

In other words, the law of life, according to Nietzsche, consists of active disregard for the welfare of all others, and that which is the true and basic guide to human action ought, if this side of Nietzsche has its way, to become the law of life in practice. To work out a set of action-guides according to this understand- ing of the true law of human action would be very revolutionary so far as our concept of morality is concerned. However, as I say, one part of Nietzsche's own purpose was precisely to effect such a revolution in basic human concepts. Another example of the utility of this proposed definition of morality in helping to distinguish between moral and nonmoral systems is the case of Theravada Buddhism and other similar mystical points of view. Though there is evidence in Theravada Buddhism of a system of action-guides that conforms to our definition of morality, the ultimate objective of the devout Bud- dhist is, in attaining Nirvana, to enter a state of "equanimity," or "serene unconcern" so far as the earthly welfare either of oneself or of others goes. In fact, the whole concept of "self" and "other" is dissolved in Nirvana. Consequently, the system of monastic action-guides that characterizes the preferred pattern of activity is finally "transmoral" or "postmoral." Again, this sort of distinction appears to conform exactly to the intentions of archaic Theravada Buddhism. It is my suggestion that all mysti- cal positions drive eventually in this same sort of transmoral direction. We may conclude from this cursory reference to the trans- moral character of mystical systems that to the degree a code of conduct diminishes other-regardingness, it becomes, corres- pondingly, less and less a "moral" code of conduct. If, for ex- ample, in our own Western context, self-regarding virtues like temperance, physical fitness, aesthetic sensibility, and so on, came systematically to be considered as weightier or more important than the more distinctly other-regarding, welfare-oriented ac- tivity, then a new, more or less "postmoral" code of action would be emerging in our society.


The Military Chaplains' Review

The Modified Egoism of Thomas Hobbes. Hobbes' brand of moral philosophy is of great importance for our purposes be- cause he stands at the beginning of the "modern age" so far as moral and political philosophy are concerned. It was during the 17th century in England, when Hobbes wrote, that the estab- lished standards of moral and political life were breaking up. As the result of the deep alterations wrought by the Puritan Revolution, England began — uncertainly, to be sure — to move from what Max Weber called a "traditionalistic" to a "legal rational" pattern of authority, or one based on a theory of indi- vidual achievement and rational consent, rather than on tradi- tion and inherited status. Consequently, Hobbes highlights certain aspects of moral reasoning that are still with us, especially the importance of ra- tional self-interest as a starting-point for moral reflection. In- deed, in his belief that self-interest is what, after all, underlies all human motivation, Hobbes continues to attract a following, perhaps a greater one than we like to admit. But can Hobbes* egoism be classed as a moral philosophy at all, according to our definition? It is clear he is concerned with action-guides and with all of our "legitimacy words," like good/ bad, right/wrong, as they apply to action, as well as with duty, obligation, etc. Moreover, he regards his proposed directives as superior, in the sense we use the term, and he is at great pains in his various writings to show how action-guides are properly and consistently validated and vindicated. Yet, is his position other-regarding? The essence of egoism would appear to be to leave the welfare of others out of account and to favor one's own self-interest. So it does, and had Hobbes developed his position in the thoroughly anti-social direction that is suggested in at least part of Nietzsche's thought, he would fall outside the arena of moral thinkers altogether.


The Military Chaplains' Review

He does so by contending that the conditions of peace (and fair treatment), as opposed to the conditions of war, are more advantageous to each individual's realizing his own good. And since every individual's seeking his own maximum good amounts to Hobbes* basic moral prescription, we have a fairly consistent justification, providing of course that one buys Hobbes' basic prescription. In technical language, this is a teleological and prudential argument. It is teleological because it validates particular action- guides by showing that they are instrumental toward achieving a desired end (the self's interest, in this case). It is prudential in that it recommends that the overriding end of all the self's action is to watch out for oneself and one's own, which is to say, "Be prudent." Hobbes' manner of vindicating his basic prescription sheds light on why he stresses the need to seek peace. In support of his basic prescription, Hobbes urges his readers to make some psycho- logical observations regarding the nature of man and to see if these observations do not confirm Hobbes' view that men are so constituted that they seek their own good to the exclusion of everyone else's. Hobbes' picture of "a war of all against all" in the state of nature is but a dramatization of a fact about man's vicious egocentricity that appeared to him to be self-evident. Hobbes, then, believes that men are faced with the following antinomy: they naturally seek gratification without any re- straint or regulation, but the more avidly they seek gratification without restraint, the more they raise the probabilities of war and self-destruction, and, in turn, diminish their chances for ob- taining what they seek. Reason and prudence, therefore, dictate that men in their own interest yield to the sacrifices imposed by peace and order so as to minimize their losses.


The Military Chaplains' Review

There are many criticisms of Hobbesian egoism. Let me cite two, one on the level of vindication, and one on the level of vali- dation. As to Hobbes' vindication for his position, we may wonder whether his theory of human nature is quite adequate. Is man so utterly incapable of altruistic impulses as Hobbes alleges? More directly, how could we be sure that Hobbes* ac- count of man's incapacity for altruism, for seeking ends other than those exclusively his own, is correct? It seems that no evidence could be imagined that might call Hobbes' egoistic the- ory into question. Whenever people tried to provide evidence, Hobbes displayed an ingenious ability to reduce even the most sublime of human actions and motives to egocentricity. But if no evidence could be imagined that might falsify the theory, then the theory is tautological. Hobbes has simply stipulated, rather than demonstrated, that all human action is exclusively egoistic. That seems rather an arbitrary maneuver, and, as such, does not provide much incentive for adopting Hobbes' basic prescription. On the level of validating, Hobbes' brand of prudentialism raises severe problems so far as our common moral understanding is concerned. According to Hobbes, one ought to abide by the moral rules of justice, non-injury to others, etc. only if one could not get away with breaking them. For, logically, if the end I seek is my own interest (as the basic prescription dictates), then I "ought" to live by the rules of peace and order only so long as my interest is served in so doing. Obviously, if I can violate the rules with impunity by means of fraud, then I am bound by my position to do that. In Hobbes' view, the end clearly justifies any expedient means. Hobbes' position is worth considering, not only because it ex- presses an outlook that is still found today, but more importantly because it identifies one of the key problems for moral reflection, namely, how to find a justifiable common standard for settling disputes over desired objectives.


The Military Chaplains' Review

This matter is one of the severest problems posed in the current literature on decision theory. With respect to measuring and comparing values, there is a question whether Bentham took as seriously as he should have the matter of compromising among values, or of determining "trade-offs." The explanation for this shortcoming was his confi- dence in the natural identity of interests, and in the coincidence of the self's happiness and the happiness of all. We are surely losing our faith in these convictions, convictions which served to vindicate many of the basic action-guides of the 18th-century English world, most notably of Adam Smith's economic advice. The next difficulty is, of course, Bentham's peculiar belief that his felicific calculus enabled him to explain how people assess the worth of the values they espouse. Bentham may have been per- suaded that if the quantities of pleasure produced by pushpin and by poetry are equal, then that settles the matter of their respective worth, from everyone's point of view. But it is not hard to imagine some one disputing this, much as John Stuart Mill did. Mill was so perplexed by the implausibility of Bentham's method for determining the worth of values, that he developed his own, more objective scale of "lower" and "higher" pleasures, without abandoning the principle of utility as a basic moral prescription. But Mill's perplexity over this aspect of Bentham's position locates a key problem in the history of thinking about mor- ality, namely, Is there an objective or transsubjective way of de- ciding what the worth of desired or valued objects is? Is there some way, other than Bentham's unsuccessful procedure, for de- termining not simply what people do value, but what they ought to value? These questions are very relevant to the specifically moral aspects of Bentham's position, for unless we can decide precisely what constitutes the "right kind of happiness," how shall we be able to know what means we ought to adopt in order to bring such happiness to pass ?


The Military Chaplains' Review

Thus, rather obviously, all forms of arbi- trary treatment, including the deprivation of the basic welfare of others, is something no one has a right to perpetrate without first providing for the right to consent of the affected parties. In this way, our moral species-terms such as restrictions on fraud, deception, cruelty etc., are accounted for. Furthermore, on the logic of his position, Kant might have argued (though, to my knowledge, he did not), that the condi- tion of respect for persons requires a positive concern, a disposi- tion of benevolence to those rendered incompetent, by circum- stance, from determining their ends and pursuing them freely. Here special treatment for children and involuntarily disadvan- taged people would appear to be required by the basic prescrip- tion. In short, respect for persons obliges action calculated to increase the competence of persons as independent decision- makers. To refuse to engage in such action, such as refusing to enable one's children to become independent, would be an example 14 of treating another as a means to one's own ends, rather than as an end-in-himself . The form of Kant's argument, in contrast with the teleological form employed by Hobbes and Bentham, is called deontological. This simply means that we have an argument that takes a means of action as right-in-itself, rather than as right because it serves some special end. Kant's attempt was to undercut the very form of argument employed by Hobbes and Bentham, in which the end is held to justify the means, and replace it with a form of argu- ment in which the means of action impose some limiting condi- tions on the kinds of ends that may be pursued. Kant's mode of vindicating his basic moral prescription takes the form of an elaboration of the sort of argument I provided above.


The Military Chaplains' Review

That is, one tries, by analyzing the moral concepts that people use to discover what is built into or assumed in those concepts, and then try to show people what the consequences of such assumptions are for living out their moral life. Whatever may be one's final assessment of Kant's position, and I have shamelessly oversimplified it here, one will have to agree, I think, that Kant is, more than Hobbes or Bentham, the philosopher of a liberal society. That is true because he provides a foundation (whether successful or not, every man must judge for himself) for a society with a strong moral emphasis upon individual rights, autonomy and respect for persons. Kant, unlike Bentham, is able to provide a moral basis for such things as the bill of rights, which is clearly for the protection of the rights of minorities, and is considered binding no matter what the majority may decide to do. And Kant, in distinction from Hobbes, can give a reason why one "ought" to refrain from cruelty or discriminatory treatment, even though such action might be carried out with impunity. CONCLUSION Rather than survey broadly many of the traditions and de- velopments in the history of moral philosophy, I have decided to analyze only a few positions. My principle of selection was not random. I chose three positions which have exerted and con- tinue to exert enormous influence on the moral reflection of Anglo-Saxon men and women. Moreover, I set the positions up as I believe they should be set up, in the form of a disputation. It is in dispute that these positions (and all positions) were born, and it is by means of an examination of the dispute that we can appreciate what is deficient and what is of enduring value in them.


The Military Chaplains' Review

Some Methodological Problems The necessity of thinking through the methodological im- plications of this task has brought me up against some problems that were not acknowledged (and possibly not foreseen) in the commissioning statement. One of these problems concerns the implications of ethical theory per se for the concept of "value ed- ucation" and the centrality of the concept in the educational process. The other concerns the manner in which the stipulations "utility in value education in the Army" influence the selection of ethical theories to be studied. Because both of these methodo- logical problems must be taken into account in rethinking "value education in the Army," I shall begin my presentation with an attempt to explain their meaning and importance. 1 James Gustafson writes in the introduction to Niebuhr's The Responsible Self (New York: Harper & Row, 1963), p. 41, ". . . no one wishes more than he [i.e., Gustafson] that H. Richard Niebuhr could have written for himself a volume on 'The Principles of Christian Action,' and a third on 'Christian Responsibility in the Common Life.' " Dr. Weber is Professor of Social Ethics at Candler School of Theology, Emory University, in Atlanta, Georgia. 17 1. Ethics is the critical study of moral reasoning and moral action. When we approach the matter of "value education" from the standpoint of a general study of ethical theory, we assume, of course, that we are considering moral values and not some other kind such as aesthetic or monetary values. From that stand- point we recognize that values are not fixed as to nature and role in human life but are contingently related to particular ethical orientations. What the moral values are and what kind of role they play in the moral process depend in large part on the kind of ethical theory accepted and employed. Perhaps the point can be clarified by a brief consideration of the three major types of ethical theory identified by H.


Mississippi Law Journal Winter 1975 Book 1

If the reason for the existence of equity courts is the lack of an adequate remedy at law, then this situation demands intervention. The federal courts ap- pear to be relegating the class action litigation to the state courts ;211 if there is no remedy in the state courts, there is no remedy at all. The Liddell and Evans cases may have been correctly decided; the potential loss to the defendants accused of exacting usurious rates was in great disproportion to their alleged misdeeds. A class suit for the interest charged or at least for the usurious increment, however, would seem appropriate. The narrow allowance of multiparty suits in the past was apropos to a different situation and rationale. Generally, there was an attempt by a powerful corporation to bring individual suits from circuit court jury trials, aggregate them, and have them heard as a group before a chancellor. In the contemporary class action, however, the class has not attempted to bring individual suits, and often would not be able to do so. Further, in addition to efficiency, there is a public need for contem- porary class actions; the old multiparty suit, however, was primarily for convenience. Although class actions have grown from the same seed as the earlier multiparty actions, the narrow, archaic common-law concep- tual analyses of privity are not appropriate to class actions. Generally, the analyses are applications of conceptual and formal substantive law to prevent the use of a modern functional procedural device. Although the recent Mississippi cases are discouraging to those who would seek such a remedy, there is prior Mississippi case law upon which one apparently can rely. The exceptions to the old multiparty actions provide areas for growth of a more tolerant class action atmos- phere. Absent court acceptance of the class action device, legislation is strongly recommended to provide this much-needed relief.


In a lengthy dissent, Justice Robertson cogently argued that allowing one spouse to enlarge the lien on the homestead by way of future advances erodes the special protection the Mississippi Legislature has accorded the homestead by dealing with it separately from business or investment property. Quoting at length from a Kansas case,55 Justice Robertson argued that the future advance clause could not secure Mr. Jones' new and separate loans because the trial court in the instant case had made no finding that Mr. and Mrs. Jones or the bank had intended for the deed of trust to secure payment of new and separate business loans to one spouse alone. Justice Robertson warned that the majority had opened the door for uncontrolled spousal chicanery and that the result was harsh and unconscionable and one which the legislature had specifically at- tempted to guard against. Justice Robertson concluded that Davis required the consent of both the husband and the wife to an enlargement of the debt secured by a deed of trust on the homestead and that the amount secured by the deed of trust should be stated in order to comply with the clear and unambiguous language requirements of Hudson. The Mississippi Supreme Court, in the instant decision, has put the home- stead in an untenable position — that of competing with economic, social and political forces which strongly influence the decisions of legislatures and courts. Throughout the history of this case the court has faced the dilemma of who is to bear the loss of the money due on the notes executed by Mr. Jones and secured by cattle he allegedly owned but which the bank could not find. The solution to the dilemma should lie either in precedent or legislative pronounce- ment. However, there is no statute bearing on the issues of future advances, and the case precedent is vague and conflicting.


DeHart* Arbitration of Interest Disputes: Proceedings of the Twenty-Sixth Annual Meeting, National Academy of Arbitrators is a compilation of papers prepared for and presented to the Academy's membership. The title, Arbitration of Inter- est Disputes, is slightly misleading since only two chapters are related directly to that topic; the remainder of the book is devoted to other matters of current interest in the field. The overview of interest arbitration shows its conception some 75 years ago, but its subsequent use has been restricted largely to the transit and newspaper publishing industries. While the treatment of interest arbitration in those indus- tries is interesting and informative, it appears that the potential of the process in resolving interest disputes in the burgeoning field of public employee bargain- ing will create much wider interest. Moving into another area, the chapter entitled "Updating Arbitration" contains a splendid presentation of the recently instituted program for expe- dited arbitration of minor disputes in the steel industry along with some pene- trating comments by experts in the field of labor relations. Two other areas presented are worthy of comment for divergent reasons. The chapter devoted to discipline for refusal to cross picket lines presents a thorough tracing of case law devoted to this perennial problem for labor attor- neys, while the chapter treating arbitration of disputes between professional athletes and club owners provides something of a behind-the-scenes view against which we can better evaluate those articles in the sports section. Harold Davey's presentation, "Situation Ethics and the Arbitrator's Role," providing as it does a large measure of deserved self-criticism and suggested improvements for the body of professional arbitrators composing the Academy, is perhaps the most worthwhile contribution to the book. In fact, looking back, those readers who are from time to time called upon to explain or justify the awards of arbitrators will find the asides more helpful in that task than the direct commentary. * Partner, Weintraub & DeHart, Memphis, Tennessee; and Adjunct Professor of Law, University of Mississippi.


Facing the Danger: Interviews with 20 Anti-Nuclear Activists

Many were very angry, and others, of course, related their stories in calm, even voices. These individuals have been through a lot; some have had contact with the survivors of Hiroshima who are physically suffering from the effects of the bomb, and some are slowly dying from exposure to radioactive fallout received during bomb tests. Some of these people have been slandered and maligned because of their work; others have met with violence or imprisonment for following the dic¬ tates of their own conscience and a higher moral law. All of them fear for their lives and for the lives of future generations. It is highly instructive to listen to these voices as they ar¬ ticulately delineate their own growing awareness of the threat posed by nuclear weapons. Implicit in each story one gets the sense that once each person became aware of the dangers and threats of the nuclear weapons race he/she had no choice but to XVI Introduction act. But in reality none of the situations were quite that simple. These people chose to act and/or become involved only after they had thoroughly pondered and mulled over the ramifica¬ tions of what it means to live in a world bristling with nuclear weapons. They all, in their own way, studied the issues, dis¬ cussed them, and then eventually took it upon themselves to act in accordance with their convictions. The point is, their journeys to activism were not easy. The people in these pages are what Henry David Thoreau describes as “awake.” Thoreau said, “To be awake is to be alive ... moral reform is the effort to throw off sleep.” Today, it is imperative that we all wake up to the grave danger posed by nuclear weapons. If we do not face this imminent danger, there is an awful chance that life itself will be extinguished.


I was work- )"t 4 mi the penetration of electrons into solids and the interac- Mmii id radiation with matter, and I had some ideas on the iIm'mi y of that phenomena that were closely related to Einstein’s mi the photoelectric effect. So I wrote a letter to Einstein. I in just a youngster of 22 or 23, and I wrote a brief note saying that I had some ideas on electron emissions from solids which wain related to his photoelectric effect, and that he might be in- • •*i anted in knowing about them. Three days later I got an invitation to come and visit him. I Ills is really quite extraordinary as I think about it — one would think that Einstein would be busy, that he wouldn’t have time to talk to young, unknown students. But it turned out that this wasn’t so; I think he was interested in me because I was at the age when he had had his most fruitful ideas. It was a very, very emotional experience for me to meet this man, who was a legendary kind of figure, almost a saint in the scientific community. And of course, he was a saint not only because of what he did as a scientist, but also for his great con¬ cern for the future of man in the nuclear age. I was really overawed. As I walked from the train station to Einstein’s home I was all shaken up inside. To me, this man represented the essence of all that the human mind had been able to produce over the cen¬ turies. When I got to his house, which was just a little clapboard house in Princeton on Mercer Street, I waited for him in the din¬ ing room. And as he came down the hall, I saw that he was every bit the image that I had seen in photographs — baggy trousers, a sweatshirt, and his white hair standing up.


I atm on, we went upstairs to his study. There were all these papms lying around, and he pointed to them and said “Look limit I’m working on this unified theory, and I’ll never know d it has any meaning whatsoever.” It was incredible — I really Mot the sense of a man who felt that his whole life had been a I allure. I think coloring everything was the fact that he had, of i nurse, been the one who initiated the Manhattan Project through his letter urging Roosevelt to investigate the possibility that a bomb could be made from uranium. Meeting him was certainly a great influence on my thinking. And over the years, as I stayed in touch with him by mail, I read what he was writing and listened to his efforts to warn people about the danger of nuclear weapons. I began to sense, increas¬ ingly, that I would never abandon that part of his concerns. This sense of responsibility was heightened when I went back to Cornell in 1949, because my principal Ph.D. advisor, Dr. Philip Morrison, had been very active in the Manhattan Project and he was under bitter attack for his advocacy of nuclear arms control. That was also the year when the Russians detonated their first bomb — and so Hans Bethe and others began to talk about the pressure to build a hydrogen bomb. So you see, all of these people around me were involved with nuclear weapons in one way or another. I knew the arms race that Einstein feared was about to take place, and I knew that it had to be contained in some way before those weapons could be used. This has been with me ever since; it’s the basis of my real concern. I became convinced that there was an inadequate understanding of physics and mathematics by the general public, partially because physics has become so abstract.


My wife and I first noticed that our baby was having difficulty sitting up — our pediatrician couldn’t tell if anything was wrong, but I began to get very worried about it. As the baby got sicker, it produced an enormous amount of internal upset in me. I guess I felt that it was somehow my responsibility, or my wife’s, or that I was doing something wrong.... Actually I had a very serious nervous breakdown as a result of that enormously awful experience. Watching as your child becomes increasingly unable to function, without knowing why, can just tear a person apart. We eventually found out that the baby had Tay Sachs disease, a rare genetic condition which could have been partial¬ ly induced by years of background radiation. The baby died within a year after that diagnosis. It made an enormous impression on me to see what it really means when there’s suffering in a family — to see the effects of suffering on human life, beyond all the statistics on death and injury. That is an enormously terrible experience to go through. At that time, of course, I had no inkling that the disease could have been connected to radiation. But many years later, when I began to uncover the possibility of damage to babies from fallout, it occurred to me that my child may have died as a result of damage from x-rays received by my father, my wife or myself. And I do believe that my suffering contributed, in a sense, to my willingness to undergo an awful lot of attack and upset to speak out about these things. Just at the time I was finishing my Ph.D. at Cornell, I was ap¬ proached by Westinghouse Research Laboratories. I joined them in 1952 and began to work on ways of improving diagnostic x-ray technology.


Segi had gathered World Health Organization statistics on cancer and leukemia rises, and his report showed a three to five-fold increase in leukemia in Japan after Hiroshima. In a sense, then, I began to feel that I had stumbled on an ear¬ ly effort to minimize the apparent effect of nuclear weapons on mankind, including their ability to produce leukemia. And when I realized that, I began to see that I would have to com¬ pletely devote myself to these issues. I wanted to expose the tremendous cover-up that I had come across — I wanted to make public the enormous health impact that fallout from nuclear weapons had already produced. Essentially, that meant I would have to set aside my work on fundamental particles. I decided to leave Westinghouse and to accept a job in the Department of Radiology at the University of Pittsburgh Medical School. You have to understand that my heart was still in trying to understand the nature of elementary particles. What makes the universe tick? What are the basic structures and how did they originate? This was my deepest intellectual satisfaction. This was my job. To give that up was a major wrench. The conflict between what I wanted to do and what I had to do was so over¬ whelming that I had to deliberately choose not to even look at the journals any more for years, because it would tear me apart. I suppose you could say that my decision was a sort of parallel to the decision Einstein made — writing articles on the danger of fallout, urging other scientists to warn the public, is¬ suing the manifestoes and holding the news conferences. This is a totally foreign kind of role to a scientist who really loves nothing more than to have his privacy and a quiet space to think.


In order to keep testing bombs, the government had to keep the permissible levels of radiation in the environment high. The nuclear in¬ dustry and the government couldn’t admit that nuclear reactors were exposing people to 500 millirems of radiation, enough to increase by sixfold the risk of leukemia to a first trimester fetus. So you see, the necessity to lie about the effects of nuclear weapons also forced them to lie about the effects of nuclear reactors for peaceful purposes. Thanks to John Gofman’s work in 1970,1 learned for the first time that I had to look at infant mortality statistics around nuclear reactors. Infant mortality shows up sooner than cancer, you see. It shows up within a few months of a radiation release. I knew that I could use these arguments from reactors to argue against nuclear war, which is my real interest. A few more babies dying from radioactivity around nuclear reactors will not mean the end of the world; the real battle is for the mind of the public on the nature of nuclear weapons. So I determined, on my own, that in order to learn about what a war would really do, we would first have to look at what the bomb testing had done. Then we needed to look at what peaceful reactors had done to area residents during normal con¬ ditions and during accidents. And the easiest numbers to track were the ones on infant mortality. I knew that by touching on the deaths of babies, I would be entering a highly emotional issue. I would encounter opposition from doctors who gave x-rays to pregnant mothers, from public health and government agencies which had given their blessing to nuclear power, and from every scientist who had also done this. But I felt that the only way to expose the danger of nuclear war is to force the public to look at the statistics.


I wanted to do work in my I mi la I f ield, though, so I applied for a summer research grant in l< oh well Park Memorial Cancer Research Institute in Buffalo, Mow York. I got the grant, and the work they assigned me to was to analyze the tri-state leukemia survey. I became pretty V nowledgeable about that survey, and so they asked me to stay mu tor the year. I didn’t have any special interest in radiation at that time, you see. I was just trying to figure out ways to use math in order to be helpful. The survey, which had been done in New York, Maryland and Minnesota, followed sixteen million people over a three- vour period to find out what was increasing the leukemia rate. I upocialized in adult leukemias and the direct results of exposing people to ordinary diagnostic x-rays. And I began to get in¬ terested in the whole thing when I realized that leukemia is not a primary effect of radiation exposure — it’s a secondary effect. The primary effect is to make a person age faster. Now, many cancers are old-age diseases. What is happening to us at this chronic low-level exposure to radiation is that we’re aging f aster, and we’re getting the old age diseases sooner. I first became involved in nuclear issues when a nuclear power plant was being planned for Barker, New York, which is within thirty miles of Buffalo. The citizen’s group which was op¬ posing the plant called the Roswell Institute and asked for someone to come and speak before the county legislature on low-level radiation, and the Institute asked me to go. When I got to the hearing, I found that it had been set up; the speakers from the public came in, and the utility people im¬ mediately handed us the legislators’ questions that we were sup¬ posed to answer that night.


In every one of my books, there is some Barry Commoner 27 discussion of nuclear war. I’ve also been interested from the beginning in the “Atoms for Peace” program, which was developed as a way of putting a friendly screen in front of nuclear weapons. One of the most interesting reports we did was an analysis of Project Chariot, the government’s proposal to create a harbor in Alaska by blowing up an atom bomb. They were going to use the bomb because there were so few people on that stretch of Alaskan coast — but as we pointed out, the whole area there is traversed by Eskimo trails which are used for hunting and fishing. The Eskimos lived ecologically off of that whole area. The article we wrote analyzed the native lichens in that area, which are at the bottom of the food chain. We pointed out that lichens have a very heavy affinity for anything that falls on them, such as dust, and so they tend to be heavily contaminated by fallout. We were literally able to show in our study that there were already extraordinarily high levels of radioactivity from fallout in lichens, caribou and Eskimos. Project Chariot was ultimately blocked by the Eskimos. In fact, people who were up there told us that the Eskimo leaders were traveling around with copies of our report in their pockets. And on a wider scale, this was the experience that convinced many of us that the nuclear power problem and the nuclear war problem were ex¬ amples of a more general environmental crisis. My thinking about the interrelation between nuclear power and weapons is based on the realization that as long as you have nuclear power you’re going to have the weapons. This is a very good reason for stopping nuclear power; the proliferation of power plants potentiates the proliferation of nuclear weapons.


This is the patriotic thing to do.” This was a complete reversal of my feelings at Berkeley. I had written a letter home to my parents once, right after the Hiroshima bomb was released, saying that while I was very uncertain about the future I was quite certain that I would never work on nuclear weapons. And there I was! As I spent more time at Los Alamos, I got more into the weapons design — in fact, I spent virtually all my time de¬ signing fission bombs with great enthusiasm and a sense of mis¬ sion. I had somehow seen the light, and my calling was to con¬ Ted Taylor 33 tinue developing nuclear weapons to make quite sure that war disappeared. I also found that I was good at what I was doing. But all of this fascinating work was coming together in a device designed to kill hundreds of thousands of people — that’s its purpose. I thought that they insured a permanent peace. I thought that from now on war would be too irrational and too destructive for people to contemplate. That’s what I kept saying to my wife and my mother, at least. I still don’t know how much of it was just rationalizing to justify this fascinating work I was being exposed to as a young man. By the time I was twenty-five I had gotten on very close terms with some people I enormously admired — Enrico Fermi, Hans Bethe, Edward Teller and others. They were at Los Alamos at that time, trying to figure out how to make the H-bomb. Their interest in me and their support really negated the damage to my ego that happened when I flunked out of grad school. To have these men listening intently to me inspired a lot of con¬ fidence which has never left.


The heat from the fireball was quite intense, as I remember, and it lasted a lot longer than I had expected. I had forgotten that a shock wave was going to come after the light, and so I got caught unaware; it was a very loud and sharp crack. I remember being very serious about it for the rest of the day. I was very worried that something like that bomb might go off over my head one day. When the Korean War broke out in 1950, I began to see that we were wrong, because we had not stopped war by any means. I decided that I should put my energies into using nuclear 34 Facing The Danger physics for peaceful purposes; so in 1956, I moved to a new company called General Atomic in San Diego. We had a gather¬ ing of physics stars that summer to try to decide on what this in¬ fant company should do. That was a very exciting summer. I was very much turned on by the idea of the peaceful atom, and I had no sense whatsoever that what I was doing was wrong. I worked at General Atomic very happily for seven years, designing a safe research reactor called TRIGA which was very successful, and then working on the applications of atomic energy in space. But in 1963, the Defense Department offered me a job that I really couldn’t turn down. I was the first civilian in charge of nuclear testing at the Pentagon; I took the job because my work at General Atomic had convinced me that there was a lot we didn’t know about nuclear explosions, and we’d better damn well find out. It didn’t matter which way you looked at it — from a military point of view or a humanist point of view — it was just the simple fact that here were these thousands of nuclear weapons lying around, and their effects were unknown.


Middlebury Campus 1977-05-11 : Volume LXXIb, Issue 20

Last chance for the Seniors! Saturday Morning Inter-Fraternity Council Raft Ra ce on Otter Creek EC AC Division II Lacrosse Championships Saturday Afternoon Spring Concert behind the Field House—sponsored by MCAB and the IFC 1 PM Road Apple 3:30 PM Chris Rhodes Band Free Beer with college I.D. block draw and food rebates. In its two week history, the proposal to institute popular elections of Forum officials has already been tabled twice. At their last meeting, the 1976-77 Forum voted that next year's Forum should properly decide the issue. The proposal, if adopted, would have made two major changes. The titles of chairman and vice- chairman would have been changed to president and vice- president for symbolic impact. The major change, however, was election of the top two of¬ ficers by the student body. In the original proposal, Carolla suggested candidates should already be members of and be nominated by the Forum. He also continued on p. 6 College Predicts Frats Will Die Out Soon By JIM LABE The College in a meeting of administration and fraternity officials last week announced that fraternities at Middlebury, which have existed since 1843, will probably “die out” within the next few years. The announcement came in conjunction with an Ad¬ ministrative decision not to in¬ crease the room and board rebates for fraternity members nextyear on a level that would be equal with the percentage in¬ crease in the comprehensive fee. The action has touched off a battle between the college fraternities and the Ad¬ ministration. A similar battle occurred in 1974, when the College made an attempt to abolish fraternities. In a meeting of the Inter- Fraternity Council and several Administrative officials, Assistant Dean of Students Ar¬ nold McK innev said that “The College does not foresee fraternities existing in l() years.” “We a re at (he point now where w'e have to consider the future of the College.


Road Apple stated that they “would really like to play outside." Three months after the start of their search, Howe and Small finally had constructed a spring concert. Why does Middlebury have such a hard time booking good concerts? There are three main reasons: the remoteness of the campus, the limited budget and faciities, and, most importantly, the relationship with the necessary intermediary, the Don Law Agency. Little can be done about the first two problems. And the relationship with the Don Law Agency simply gives them total control. Howe feels trapped because “we don't have enough information to know how to deal, so we have to go to them.” The drawback about working with the Don Law Agency is that the Agency is a promoter and not anagent. An agent simply sets up deak between bands and those whowant to stage concerts for a fee. A promoter likes to hire a hall, put on a show, promote it, and rake in big profits. As an afterthought, the promoter will act as an agent. Middlebury must throw itself at the feet of a promoter because the students demand the names of performers who only work tiirough large promoters. For settingup his own concert, Don Law can reap huge profits; for settingup a concert for anyone etee. they only get an agent’s fee. They use colleges and other private organizations to fill in gapsin the tours they set up. This is the specific reason that Mid¬ dlebury has such difficulty getting high quality performers. Next fall, Howe and Small should have a new plan. They hope to enlist several other schools in a block-booking effort Block-booking would entail a group playing approximately four concerts in a row at four colleges like Middlebury. Hopefully, the schools involved in a block-booking venture could come up with a comprehensive list of preferred performers, prices and dates which, when submitted to the Don Law Agency, would receive active response.__ Roger McGuinn in Mead Chapel.


The candidates seemed to dwell on the lack of communication among students, rather than between the students and administration. There were various suggestions for making students aware of what is happening on campus and for rallying student support, but there seemed to be an ignorance of student feelings that the administration is largely responsible for the communications gap. Whether it’s true or not no one can truly say, but many students believe that a great many of our recent gripes and grumbles could have been avoided if we’d been consulted, or even if "The Administration" made minimal efforts to have everyday--rather than scattered, official-contact with the Student Body. The new Student Forum should realize first that there is a lot of general grumbling going on, and next that much of it is due to the fact that most of us know our administrators only through gossip with other students. Forum members should try to get to know their constituents (goddumit, who elected ’em ennyhow.) and the administration. At the same time, the ad¬ ministration should realize that maybe if they got to know more students a little better, they might not earn the vicious gossip and cruelty we are always heaping on them--as individuals and as a collective whole. Even though the author of this editorial has gotten a lot of good editorial material from the blunders and will not be here next year tosee what happens, he hopes that everyone will try to be good next year and keep out of trouble, be nice and of course "strive to be happy". A warm summer and thawed feet <hould do us all a little good... Fraternity Living Fraternities are a part of Middlebury. Although sometimes they seem more dominant than they ought to be considering their minor constituency, they are as much a part of the College life as Proctor, as meal rebates, as Frisbees on a spring weekend, or as ten hours a day in the Library for the last month of the semester.


Fraternity alumni constitute a large contingent among Middlebury’s economic supporters; the College depends on the fraternities to house up to one hundred students who wouldn’t fit anywhere else. Despite these factors, however, thb College seems to be interested in making the fraternity alternative less attractive than the College’s offerings and far less economically feasibb than at the other New England Colleges with which Middlebury often compares itself. The Colle#.* should recognize the fraternity alternative as legitimate, or it should announce publicly its considerations for the future of fraternities at Middlebury. It seems obvious that a lot of problems on campus resu k from poor communication between the Administration and the Students; therefore, the Administration should start announcing its long-term as well as its short-term gdals and programs. The fraternity question offers a good chance for a smooth, bvelh aided futuristic resolution and plan. If we are to believe the Students and the Ad- minis tration--who both claim they want to be logical and solve the ptpble'm rather than prolong it-then it would seem that openness is the best way to deal with this matter. Other matters may then fall in line. Commentar y Ruminations on Place Holding By PETER LIGHTE Professor of History Leaving Middlebury will not be easy. My year here has been an unexpected pleasure, all the more so after having had two nightmarish tangles with the Oriental schoofe in the summers of 1972 and 1973. Despite my memories of those days, I chose to return. The decision is best ap¬ preciated as an escape from a year in Ohfa! The prospects were unsettling. Filling in for a seasoned pro, I was initially looked upon as a place holder. But the very intimidation of the task coupled with thevalie I place on the days of our lives engendered an enthusiasm I had never felt before.


But it’s not supportable to say we cannot come up with that figure. I think students have a right to be more informed with what goes on at tlie college. That doesn't mean I think they have a right to know everything I think there are some things that shouldn’t be given out Tree ! II CHW Photos by Tom Arcidiacono and Richard Tarl ov Tony’s Pizza -DELICIOUS- Italian Food and Pizza f Middlebury The Middlebury Campus The Middlebury Campus page 10 English Department Grows... continued from p. 3 instance, limiting the size of the classes leaves those students who do not gain admission to the courses they like feeling cheated. Alsothose turned away may turn to other popular departments, creating an overcrowding problem there. Limiting papers tends to "water down the program,” leaviigt he student little room for improvement. Additional faculty seems to be the- most plausible answer although even that solution runs ink) problems. The need for more faculty is especially urgent now because, according to Professor Mill, "there are now fewer full¬ time Faculty (in the English Department) than when I came here 11 years ago—and there were only 14(X) students then.” Pack has designed a proposal which would compensate for flu cti at ions in enrollment A-ithin a department. He believes "the college should establish a minimum student faculty ratio per department - For English it should be60 students a semester per p rofessor ” Deanof the Humanities Stanley Bates is aware of the problem, but has had little success in g a in in g more faculty.. The Teaching Resources Committee allocates faculty per department, taking both enrollment and program into consideration. But, as Bates stressed “they are bound by budget restraints.” However, he added that "ultimately if there is a solution—it is more faculty.” Professor Pack summed it up, “At a college like Middlebury, courses that require a degree of interpretation have to be recognized as such- English courses necessitate coversation.


If we’re not conversing it might as well be the University of Mic higan.” Papers, along with individual participation, are an essential element in the departmental philosophy. Effective critisism both of the form and the content ..Midd Reviews Winter Term continued from p. 1 find it more difficult in this en¬ vironment. In reviewing Winter Term coursechanges, Leng said that he and Assistant to the Vice President for Academic Affairs John Emerson (Mathematics) found that a large majority of the drop—adds were students dropping harder courses and enrolling in easier ones. Ac¬ cording to Leng, the better professors found enrollment declining in their classes because the course's work load was more than what a student wanted. Leng pointed out that it is difficult for faculty to work hard 1 if the students expressed a desire not to work hard. Minor structural changes that have been instituted in the past five years which were designed to solve thses problems have not helped said Leng. The Educational Council has received a great deal of positive and negative reactions from the faculty and students about Winter Term. The Council does not have any formal plan or proposal about the future of Winter Term at this time. What lies open to the status of Winter Term? Leng and Olinick feel that there is some agreement that this type of experience should be available in every colege curriculum. It seems unlikely at this point that it will tota fly be abolished. Leng believes that the problem is the college community achieving a consensus on the purpose of Winter Term. One possible option that is being considered is making it voluntary with only three nut of four Winter Terms. Another idea Olinick believes possible is changing it to a dif¬ ferent part of the year, perhaps in the beginning of the fall.


Luciano Nicasio 78 and Bob Yeadon ’80 polled off a double stealin the fourth inning, Nicasio sliding home with the third Middlebury run. Mike O'Hara, No. 5, at bat in the Lyndon State game Photo bv Gwendolyn Blaine Photo by Gwendolyn Blaine That was all the Middlebury batters could manage, but it was more than enough as Birsky scattered the six Williams hits and was never in serious trouble. In fact he seemed to get stronger as the game progressed, blazing through the last three batters to record the victory. In his last 26 innings, Birsky has allowed just two runs. Fortunately the hitters, who took a backseat on Wednesday, were able to recuperate in time to demolish Castleton on Thursday. They scored early and often, amassing six runs in the first four innings, on their way to a 12-9 win. These were the first runs the team had scored all year for right hander Rob Race 78. But as Race’s luck would have it a sore ami prevented him from pitching with his usual effectiveness and he was unable to take advantage of this hitting support. He was really hammered by the opposition for the first time this year, allowing six runs ( five earned) on nine hits in just lour innings. Race was relieved with noouts in the fifth by Mike Souza 79. Souza started out shakily, giving up three runs in the sixth, as Castleton took a short-lived 9-7 lead. But he fired a shutout the rest of the way, allowing the Panthers' five run explosion in the seventh to carry the Pan¬ thers to victory. The big gun was co-captain Bob Carroll '78 who is showing signs of breaking his early season slump. Carroll drove home three runs with a single and a triple. Two home games remain: against Norwich on May 10th and against Albany on May 12th.


Mississippi Law Journal Spring 1992 Book 1

Conclusion This article has dealt with the more notable differences between the existing Mississippi law of intestate succession, wills, and administration of estates, and the provisions of the proposed Mississippi Uniform Probate Code. It should be clearly understood that there are many other differences that have not been mentioned, and that the MUPC article dealing with protection of persons under disability has not been ad- dressed at all. However, it is obvious from what has been covered that the enactment of the MUPC would bring a multi- tude of very significant changes to the law of Mississippi. Few would contend that the law of Mississippi in these areas is perfect. Many governing statutes are over one hun- dred years old. Numerous changes have occurred in Mississip- pi in the interim. While the legislature has made significant changes from time to time, many would contend that more needs to be done to improve the state of the law. By the same token, many people do not think that the official Uniform Probate Code is perfect. After some twenty years, only fifteen states have adopted it. Further, many states have adopted parts of it, while presumably rejecting the other parts. The heavily revised Article II, which is a part of the MUPC, has not yet been adopted by any state. Therefore, for those who believe that the law of Mississip- pi needs further improvement, the issue would appear to be whether the improvement should come in the form of specific statutes designed to correct specific problems, or whether the better course is to repeal all of the statutes and replace them with the MUPC. In other words, if the entire MUPC is enacted, most of Mississippi's current law on this subject will be repealed. If one believes that most of the current law is objectionable then this is the desired result.


Introduction Presently, every state has some type of juvenile court or special treatment for child criminals. However, each state also recognizes that some juveniles may need more severe punish- ment than the maximum punishment available in juvenile courts. In recognition of this fact, all of the states have some type of waiver process, whereby, a juvenile may be removed from juvenile court and transferred to criminal court. Transfer of a juvenile to criminal court may be accomplished by judicial waiver, legislative waiver or prosecutorial waiver. However, special points should be considered in deciding whether to try a juvenile as an adult. First, generally the punishment a juvenile receives in juvenile court is less than the punishment he would receive in criminal court. Although, it is possible that a juvenile who has a long prior record in juvenile court may be treated more leniently if he is trans- ferred to criminal court. Second, juveniles do not have the same mental capacity as adults. Every person goes through a series of mental stages called egocentrism, before he or she becomes an adult. Thirdly, the possibility of a class bias 95 96 MISSISSIPPI LA W JO URNAL [vol. 62 should be considered in the transfer decision. Many juveniles are from lower class families and are members of a minority group. Further, prison experience is typically more harsh and less helpful to youths than the experience in juvenile training centers. The latter provide better training to help youth fit into society after being released. Finally, a very important consideration in the transfer decision is that a juvenile may receive capital punishment if he is tried as an adult. Egocen- trism should be a factor in this capital punishment decision also. This comment will give a brief history of the juvenile court system, discuss the three methods of waiving a juvenile case to criminal court and discuss the points that need to be considered in the transfer decision.


The Friends Of The Bridegroom Bob Hallstrom Ocr

It is much easier to determine what the pearl is not than it is to identify what the pearl is. Christ is not the pearls as there is only one Christ and Christ is not a commodity to be bought and sold in any marketplace. Salvation is not the pearl as salvation is the free gift of God and what is given by God cannot be bought or sold as in a marketplace. The church is not the pearl as the church is not 14 hidden from man. It may be a mystery to some but certainly it is not hidden. The man is not the general population of the world, Israel, or the church; the man is Christ and the pearl of great price is Israel. In the previous parable, the treasure in the field was Israel and so it is in this parabie as in this parable. The man (Christ) was seeking goodly pearls from among all the inhabitants of the world, and having found Israel, " He "went and sold (gave) all that He had (His life), and bought (redeemed) it," as in the previous parable. Christ is the redeemer of Israel (pearl) and Saviour of the entire world. Christ has paid the price for Israel and the world. He came and died on the cross, paying the price to redeem the only nation on earth that was under the curse of the law, and thus the only people who could be bought back or redeemed, Israel (His treasure and pearl); and to purchase salvation for the entire world (all pearls). Scripture abounds with factual evidence that Israel is the bride of Christ, God’s peculiar treasure, hidden treasure, pre¬ cious living stones, and the one pearl of great price. (For a complete study on the issue of the parables con¬ cerning the kingdom of God refer to the author’s book entitled 'The Parables of Matthew 1 3.") BODY OF CHRIST The Church Scripture contains no direct evidence that the church is the bride of Christ.


Ephesians, chapter 5, is often referred to as proof that the church will be the bride of Christ, but under close examination, such a conclusion is not warranted. This is a story of the relationship between a husband and his wife, a married woman ~ not a relationship between a bridegroom and his future bride. In biblical days, bridegrooms and their future brides may never see each other before the wedding day. A case in point is Isaac and Rebecca. How can two people love each other as Christ loved the church when they have never even seen 15 each other? Even today, newlyweds do not love each other as Christ loved (agaped) the church; love in a marriage grows with time. Marriage does not start out as "one flesh" (Gen 2:24), but the goal is "to become one flesh" and for two people "to become one" takes time. Christ, as the head of the body, loves the body, and man as the "head of the wife," should likewise, strive to love his wife as he loves his own body. Just because Christ loved the church does not mean that the church is the bride of Christ. There is little controversy over the definition of the church or the body of Christ; however, for the purposes of this paper it will be considered a given biblical fact that "Christ is the head of the body, the church," and that 'the church is the body of Christ." Col 1:18,24; Eph 1:22-23, 5:23. Many people would conclude from the above that since the church is the body of Christ, the church is the bride of Christ. This is a vivid example of an illogical conclusion that is not supported by the statement given. Another example of illogic would be to conclude from the same statement that the church or the body of Christ is Christ.


" Isa 60:14 FRIENDS OF THE BRIDEGROOM In the beginning of this book it was noted that John 3:29 establishes three major figures at a wedding ceremony: 1 ) the bride, 2) the bridegroom, and 3) the friends of the bridegroom. The bridegroom and the bride had already been addressed and now it is time to take a look at the friends of the Bridegroom. In ancient Israel customs, the friends of the bridegroom played an important part in wedding ceremonies and sometimes even conducted negotiations between parents of the bride and groom. In this regard, the friends of the bridegroom were well respected and very close to the bridegroom. In many cases the groom never saw the bride before the marriage and in these cases the duties of friends was extreme¬ ly important. Among their responsibilities was the requirement to examine the prospective bride and determine whether she was physically and mentally fit. It may also have been the friends responsibility to examine and exhibit the tokens of the bride's purity according to the law of Deut 22:13-22. Once it was determined that the prospective bride was chaste and otherwise suitable for marriage the friends rejoiced in triumph over having found someone who was marriageable as their character and the happiness of their friend was at stake. Once selected, the friends would act as a messenger between the Groom and a the family of the bride conveying messages one to the other. The friends were responsible for the seven day wedding feast insuring that all went well and if necessary, having investigated the bride before marriage, they defended the chastity and character of the bride. Sometimes the friends even stayed in a room near the newlyweds to protect them from injury. 22 Thus we see the importance of the friends of the Bridegroom but this does not reveal their identity.


The Transfer of Power 1942-7. Volume 6 The post-war phase: new moves by the Labour Government 1 August 1945 – 22 March 1946 (Constitutional Relations Between Britain and India)

It was generally held that the approach should be made by the parties to the Governors and not by the Governors to the parties. 1 (d) Governors were generally agreed that Provincial elections should be held as soon as possible, and a majority of them seemed to think that they should be held simultaneously or nearly so. With some exceptions, Governors thought Provincial elections should be held before Ministries were formed. In reply to the GOVERNOR OF ASSAM, the VICEROY said that he did not contemplate an amendment of the law so as to compel the dissolution of Provincial Legislatures. The decision to dissolve them would therefore rest with Governors in their discretion. 1 (e) It seemed that there would be no great difficulty about the removal of the ban on Congress organisations with the possible exception of the Forward Bloc, about which the Home Member said there was some doubt. Governors were in favour of maintaining the present policy for the release of political AUGUST 1945 17 prisoners and detenus unless Ministries came into office, in the Section 93 Provinces, in which case these matters would be largely for the Ministries. THE VICEROY added that if the Governors’ views were accepted there would certainly be a loss of efficiency, and delays in planning for development. In the Provinces the elections would take up a great deal of the time of the officials, and at the Centre it would be difficult to get the Executive Council to take decisions on big issues. He recognised that this might be inevitable. At the same time he felt that we should, if possible, have in our minds something beyond a vague idea that after the elections Jinnah might be in a better frame of mind. It was unlikely that Jinnah would co-operate except on his own terms.


THE VICEROY explained that if Ministries resumed office in the Provinces, there might, in his opinion, be some advantage in replacing or supplementing the National Defence Council by a Council of a new kind. If the Provincial Premiers and four or five ministers from the States agreed to serve, there would be a fairly compact body which could consider and advise on war problems (e.g., coal, cloth, and food) like the present National Defence Council, and could also deal with post-war development. It could be consulted on big prob- lems on which co-operation between the Centre and the Provinces is essential, e.g., the Educational Report, Road Development, Industrial Planning, Agricul- tural Planning, and the Bhore Committee’s Report. It would be a purely advisory body, but if a “‘political” Executive Council were out of the question, Provincial Premiers might feel that through it they were assisting in framing Central policy on matters of general importance. The Viceroy asked Governors to think this matter over with a view to discussion at the next meeting. © Printed on p. 18, c 18 THE TRANSFER OF POWER MEMORANDUM BUDGET In Provinces at present under Section 93, expenditure is authorised by a “Budget” sanctioned by the Governor in his discretion. If a Ministry comes into power, this authorisation ceases to be valid; the Ministry must obtain voted supply for anything they spend. They may incur expenditure in anticipation of sanction by the Legislature— and Audit will allow this—but they must get their Grants passed by the Legislature. It is impossible to close the accounts on the day before the Ministry assume office (unless it be 31st March); therefore nobody can say how much money the Governor has spent and how much the Ministers must get authority to spend. Therefore, before the end of the year in which they assume office, the Ministry must get a budget passed for that year even if it be only a rough one, despite the previous authorisation by the Governor for the whole year.


For obvious reasons the Muslims in these areas have a good deal to lose by Pakistan. They are politically dominant now, and though they have minority problems, they can keep them under control. If Pakistan became a reality in the form in which Jinnah professes to want it, the Punjab would have minority problems which might be uncontrollable. The Sikhs who form a more or less solid block in the middle of the Punjab, would never acquiesce in their inclusion in a Muslim Sovereign State; and the Punjabi Hindus who are more widely scattered but are in a majority in the eastern districts, would also have a great deal to say. Most of the Governors believed that the crudity of Jinnah’s ideas ought to be exposed. But there is no easy way of doing so. There seems little doubt that the League will win most of the Muslim seats at the elections, since the question for the average Muslim voter will be put in the form of whether he prefers Islam to Hinduism. I do not see how a Committee of Indian politicians, an impartial Committee of foreigners, or a mixed body including both British and foreign members, could demolish Pakistan. Jinnah would undoubtedly boycott the proceedings—the League have adopted the Congress technique in most matters—and we should simply get recommendations based on evidence which Jinnah would represent as inadequate. 5. We shall therefore, I think, have to hold the elections for the Central Assembly and the Legislatures in the Section 93 Provinces, and see what happens. I have discussed the matter with the Commander-in-Chief, and he thinks that the elections will not affect operations or upset the Army in any way. If Ministries return to power in the Section 93 Provinces, we may in time be able to build something on them.


We are required to observe certain con- ditions, e.g., the Gurkha battalions are not sent overseas except on active service, and they all have permanent accommodation in hill stations so that the men are not kept for long periods in the plains between spells of duty on the Frontier. The Gurkha units have always had British Officers and we know that the Nepal Government would at present object to any other arrangement. We have before very long to determine the future strength and composition of the Indian Army, and we cannot foretell what the attitude of an Indian Government responsible for Defence policy would be to the Gurkha units. Nor do we know what the relations of the Nepal Government with such an Indian Government would be. The Indian attitude must remain a matter of speculation. The Gurkhas are Hindus, and much would depend on the form of the Constitution, the state of communal feeling, and the extent of the pressure, e.g., from the Punjab and the Mahratta areas, for the exclusion of “foreigners” from the Indian Army. Professional advice would favour the retention of the Gurkhas, but the Indian Government might or might not be guided by it. The Indian Government might wish to exclude Gurkhas altogether, in which event the Nepal Government would probably expect His Majesty’s Government to employ them, since service in the Army is the livelihood of a considerable pro- portion of the population. If the Indian Government decided to retain the Gurkha units at their old strength or in reduced numbers, it is probable that they would insist on their being officered in the same way as the rest of the Indian Army, that is by Indian Officers and British Officers seconded from the British Service. They would probably make Gurkhas eligible for commissions both in Gurkha and Indian units, but we cannot be sure of this.