Opposing War Before It Starts

Andre Gingerich has finished two years of study at Swarthmore College. Under the auspices of the voluntary service program of the Mennonite Board of Missions, he is working for a year with the Sojourners housing ministry. He was interviewed for Sojourners by Danny Collum on his decision to refuse to register for the draft.

Danny Collum: As a Mennonite, you could have fairly easily chosen the conscientious objection option. How did you make the decision instead to refuse to register for the draft?

Andre Gingerich: I was brought up with a strong sense that the Christian life is a life of discipleship, and that pacifism is very central to that. Respect for the sacredness of life is very important, and the taking of life is contradictory to the Christian life.

In the summer of 1979, there was a lot of talk of reviving the draft. I was part of a mock draft board at a local church. I had just graduated from high school.

At that point it was assumed that the participants took the role of registrants trying to defend our position as conscientious objectors. I went through that in this mock board. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I was thinking there seemed to be a contradiction between us trying to find our special exemption, while all those other people out there would still be drafted and were considered beyond our concern.

As I started thinking more and more about the draft issue, a crucial part of my decision was working through it with other people. I kept in close communication with one friend in particular, named Luke, who was up in New York attending school while I was in college in Pennsylvania. We decided not to register and were working through the questions together.

I had some feelings that the Mennonites too often were concerned about maintaining their own personal consistency and morality and were not really very concerned about what was going on in a broader sense. If there was a war going on, they wanted to make sure they weren't participating, but weren't doing too much to make sure the war wasn't happening.

My ideas solidified when I was reading something from the National Resistance Committee, which is a secular group trying to build a coalition of resisters. It pointed out that the government has established conscientious objector status to further the aims of the conscription process, by giving those who are most likely to oppose conscription special exemption. By working within the conscription system, you're giving that system the political and moral authority to draft others.

I realized that registration is a very crucial part of the whole process, and that one's opposition to war should not start at the actual point of killing nor at the point of induction. Our whole life has to be a life of resistance to the hate and murder that war is about. And at that point I decided that I couldn't participate in registration.

I think we have to be concerned about a whole lot more than just our own consistency, and I think as a Christian I need to be opposing war before it starts, so to speak. I need to stand clear in my opposition, not just to my own fighting but for other people trying to solve conflict in that kind of way. So, not registering has a lot of political significance in that when people refuse to register, it makes the whole war process very difficult from the beginning. In not registering, there's a lot of opportunity to generate and stimulate thinking and to challenge people to look at their own position, and there's a lot of opportunity to start mobilizing opposition.

Collum: Once you decided to refuse registration, what was the process in your thinking to decide to do that publicly?

Gingerich: From the very beginning, I felt that I at least wanted to discuss it with my family and friends, and I was public in that arena. I also felt that this was an issue that the Mennonite church should deal with, and so Luke and I went through quite a process in our home congregation.

As we were doing that, we went to a Mobilization for Survival training seminar in Philadelphia. We came back feeling the urgency of the whole military buildup, especially the nuclear threat, and the need for people to come out strongly against what's happening.

We started talking to other people in our community and organized a presence at the post office during the first two weeks of draft registration. I think there was probably more of a witness to the Mennonites in our community than to anybody else. One of the best things that happened there was that we called up people, Mennonites, and said, "Can you come down to the post office and join us?" as if we expected that they would.

Last summer we established a network of, and started a newsletter for, Mennonite non-registrants. Those non-registrants decided we wanted to address the broader church.

Every two years, the Mennonite church has a gathering for all its members, generally two to three thousand; last summer it also had a youth convention of about two thousand with it. We stood up, five of us, and made a statement, asking for the church's support in the months ahead, because we were anticipating some prosecution. Especially during the grace period, as the government began to put pressure on people to register, I felt it was important that people stand up and be very vocal about their position. In that way others who were considering that position wouldn't be badgered into making a decision on the basis of fear because they felt they were alone. That's when I started becoming even more public. So when the opportunity came along for me to go on the Today Show, I decided to do that too.

Collum: Could you say more about the response you've gotten from your home church and your immediate family?

Gingerich: My family and friends have been very supportive. They wanted to make sure, of course, that I was choosing what I wanted to do, because one of the important things about making that kind of decision is that you have to grapple with the possible consequences.

The home congregation response was very interesting. Luke and I had written up a statement outlining three different reasons for taking our position. One Sunday morning, instead of breaking up into Sunday School, the whole congregation stayed together, and we presented this paper and had a period of discussion. We got several different kinds of responses.

Some were very supportive. But some of the people who had done alternative service during World War II felt very threatened. They felt that we were negating what they had done, or accusing them of taking a position without integrity. And they really had to get that off their shoulders.

The Mennonite church has become, like a lot of churches, very institutionalized, and we're working hard at becoming part of the mainstream of American life--quite affluent in a lot of ways. Some of our leading members are very prestigious in the community, reputable businessmen and doctors, and there was a lot of concern expressed that what we were doing was going to cause a bad name for the Mennonite church.

Then there was a general feeling that, "You're being negative....Instead of just spending time in jail and rotting away, you should be making a positive contribution to society."

One of the comical moments was when somebody stood up in front and said, "Now, I'm having a little difficult time understanding what all these comments about being negative are about. I'm wondering if we would have the same reaction if a girl would say no in the back of a Chevy van." The whole congregation roared and broke through it and put it in perspective.

We had three or four sessions with the congregation before they took any kind of position. There were some really touching moments, too. One person in his 60s, whose son had been part of Sojourners when you were in Chicago, stood up and in a quiet voice said, "I've got several sons. One of them joined a Christian group in Chicago and has been working for peace. One of them went to Vietnam, and he's a killer. And I support these young men wholeheartedly. I'd make my house available to them. Anything that's mine is theirs." It was a real moving kind of thing for me to feel that kind of support.

It's much more acceptable now in the Mennonite church not to register than it was back during the Vietnam War. Yet I think people like those at the big Mennonite gathering in the summer are sort of uneasy about the whole thing. They support us, but when you start drawing out the implications, it makes people uncomfortable. But last summer after the five of us stood up and read the statement and then walked away from the podium, we got a standing ovation, which we were not at all expecting.

Collum: What, if any, response have you received from the government about your refusing to register?

Gingerich: I've gotten none. I didn't write the Selective Service a letter. It seems that most people who did got responses.

I felt that the people I wanted to address, first of all, were the people in the Mennonite church, and 18-year-olds now facing this decision, and the public in general--people who are having questions about the wisdom of our national and military policies. I really placed hope in people responding and thinking about what I was trying to say. I guess I didn't put that much hope in the director of Selective Service or the president.

Collum: What's happening with the young men who did write the Selective Service?

Gingerich: First they got letters from the Selective Service saying that if they didn't register they'd be turned over to the Justice Department. A lot of them responded by saying they still wouldn't register. Then their names were turned over to the Justice Department, and since then there have been several FBI visits. At one point when Reagan was still unclear on his position, it seemed that indictments were actually going to come down. But then Reagan stopped that at the last moment because he hadn't really taken a formal position.

So at this point, I think the government is preparing its case on some individuals. And I think there will probably be prosecution in the next two or three months, probably after school's out. The government's been very wise about its threats. The first big registration period was in the summer of '80. And the next one came over Christmas vacation, and ever since then it's been a continuous registration, so that it's been much more difficult to mobilize people.

Collum: Has the government gone after people whom they found out about through the media? Are they trying to encourage informers?

Gingerich: They keep saying they're getting a lot of names from mothers whose sons registered who don't think it's fair that others didn't. From my experience, that's not been the case. They have obtained some mass mailing lists, and they've sent, in certain states, postcards to everybody of registration age, saying they're supposed to register. Some non-registrants who had received them were under the impression that they had been singled out, but they hadn't.

Collum: The estimates are that there are about 800,000 to a million resisters.

Gingerich: That has changed some. Now, after Reagan's grace period, the Selective Service figure is 535,000. Apparently, and I wouldn't doubt this, there were a good number of people who didn't know. And there was also probably a large number of people who decided not to register, but weren't strong in their position, and with some pressure and threats decided to register after all. But even so, 535,000 is a very substantial number of non-registrants.

Collum: It's obvious that there is a resistance movement developing, with support groups of resisters. How is that growing?

Gingerich: My main experience in a movement has been in the Mennonite church and in colleges. The campuses that I'm most familiar with have groups of 10 or 15 non-registrants meeting once a week and keeping in touch, talking about their feelings, their fears. It's very supportive and important, and it keeps the position alive. There have been several gatherings. The Mennonite resisters all got together in February of 1981 in Kansas. And this January again we had a weekend. The National Resistance Committee organized gatherings in New York, Chicago, and San Francisco not too long ago, just to keep people tied together and also to find strategies in terms of how non-registrants can be supported legally in their position.

Also we get out, for example, in the high schools and present our position there. Young men are being required to register before they even graduate from high school. And it's really important that people know what their options are and have thought it through.

So, I think a movement is beginning to get organized. There are clearly large numbers of non-registrants. And that's exciting.

Collum: Among the resisters that you come in contact with, what's the general spirit, what are the expectations, how's the morale?

Gingerich: Well, I think we all were a little naive getting into this whole thing. We expected a lot of quick action, a lot of excitement. I remember that first summer, we thought the prosecution would begin in four or five months. And it turned out that the Supreme Court didn't even decide if the draft was constitutional for a year and a half or so. For a lot of us, there were periods where our resistance was our identity. In my life, for a while, that was the only thing I was--a non-registrant. That's what I breathed, and talked--it was everything. For most of us now, it's a very important part of who we are, but we've decided that life moves on.

I don't think there's a great deal of anxiety. As more and more people come out in support of non-registrants or come out in opposition to the military buildup and the nuclear arms race, that strengthens us and keeps our spirits up. For some of the individuals who were most likely to face prosecution, there have been real rough times. But again, I think the thing that is so crucial is that continued display of support from others.

I had a lot of fear and anxiety in the beginning. I spent a lot of time thinking about the possibility of jail. I went ahead and chose not to register, but I hadn't settled anything about how I felt about the possibility of jail. It was frightening just to imagine the isolation that that would bring.

When Luke and I came back that summer and got the presence at the post office going, some folks continued to meet after that and started a group called Christians for Peace. One of the things that was really strengthening for me and helped free me to move on was when about 30 people from that group wrote a letter to the director of the Selective Service saying that they advocate non-registration and were in total support of those who didn't register. They said they recognized that advocating non-registration is a felony--just like refusing to register--and though they probably wouldn't be prosecuted, they said they were willing to start taking the same kinds of risks in their lives that we were taking. These were older folks--members of the college faculty, businessmen, a doctor--and there was a real commitment. I knew that I wasn't alone, that if things started happening to me, other people were going to help share the cost and the weight of it.

Collum: Do you still feel any fear?

Gingerich: It comes and goes. But there are many times when I feel lots of support, and lots of love. One of the most moving experiences was at the worship service at Sojourners, just after the grace period ended. I felt strong support and love in a way that I've never felt before. Maybe that's what's meant by the love of Christ. I think of the passage that says nothing can separate us from the love of Christ. If I ever were to face jail, such experiences would help carry me through.

I've tried to familiarize myself with what a jail setting is like. We're often most afraid of things we don't know about. So I've had some important conversations with people who spent time in jail during the Vietnam War years. It's been a good thing to see that they've come out, many times even stronger; and at the least they've survived.

A lot of times I've thought, why, at 19, would I want to spend time in jail? I really don't want to. But I think we need to take that step of faithfulness sometimes before we have everything worked out, and before we deal with the issue of expectation or our own strength. I think sometimes we just need to step forward. There is a rich legacy of those who have gone before; and jail, I think, has served as a place to really solidify and strengthen people in their faith.

Collum: What connection do you see between your work in housing here in Washington and your stance on draft registration?

Gingerich: I'm working with the housing ministry of Sojourners community, with the Southern Columbia Heights Tenants Union. Our work is with low-income tenants in northwest Washington, helping them to organize and bring their landlords to accountability, to get the basics of housing-water, heat, decent and affordable housing.

The broader concern is that poor people find ways to take control of what's happening in their lives, so that they're not always at the mercy of the real estate agents, or the landlords, or the developers. In our neighborhood, the issues of displacement and gentrification are very much alive, and they're a real threat to the lives of the people.

When people are refused the basics of decent housing, when such a situation of injustice exists, it generates violence and hate and distrust. On a national or global level, when one or more countries consume inordinate percentages of natural resources, whether or not they're actually fighting and killing, when that setting of injustice exists, they're actually in a continual state of war. And I guess I'm inclined to believe that if we're really serious about trying to find peace, then we have to become much more serious about establishing justice.

Collum: Do you feel that you're able to communicate that you're resisting the draft because of your faith?

Gingerich: I think people have a tendency to see anybody who's resisting as a wild-eyed leftover from the '60s. When I begin to express some of my religious convictions, sometimes it stops people short. Most people in our country claim some kind of religious belief, so, in a sense, it hits them on their home turf. And it causes people to re-examine their beliefs.

I try to figure out who my audience is and speak in terms that they understand. I always try to get the value of human life and respect and care and love across, whether or not I use religious language.

The example of Christ shows that people are more important than institutions and law and custom--he healed on the sabbath, he associated with the publicans and the prostitutes, and he made people more important than the national interests. He preached love for enemies, and that was quite a threat to the people of his time, as it's still a threat now.

There's something about that concern and deep caring for people and life which is so fundamental and yet so radical; and when I present my position in those terms, people have to respond to it. It's different than presenting some kind of ideology or plan for how the world's going to change. Just a concern for human life: I'm taking this position because I see registering and participating in the military as a dehumanization, as a refusal of the element of God in other people.

Collum: Do you see a connection between the government asking you to sign up for the army and the threat of nuclear war that many people are getting concerned about now?

Gingerich: Most definitely. For many years we've made this nice, neat distinction between conventional war and nuclear war. It just can't be made anymore. Any move toward conventional war at this point is, in real terms, a move toward nuclear war.

The urgency of nuclear war is one of the things that caused me to take seriously the draft issue. It makes me more willing to take the risk. The government is requiring an act of obedience which primes the nation for readiness for nuclear war. It escalates the level of violence in our society.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer said that only they who believe obey, and they who obey believe. When people take that first step of obedience to the government, it becomes easier to believe the need for nuclear weapons, for a strong military, and for the possibility of fighting nuclear war.

The latest draft emerged after the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. One image that came to my mind was of two gang leaders getting their troops together to flex their muscle. Part of that process is preparing the members of the gang for the fight that could come up. I just didn't want to be part of that gang.

Danny Collum was associate editor of Sojourners when this interview appeared.