Nuclear Testing:
French boycott
by Simon Longstaff
It is easy to understand popular outrage at the decision by the French Government to resume limited testing of nuclear warheads at Mururoa Atoll. Many people are furious at the decision to resume testing at all - partly because of a deep-seated abhorrence of any activity associated with nuclear weapons, and partly through a fear that moves to strengthen the application of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty will now be threatened.
Others are opposed on the grounds that the French should conduct testing in their own back-yard, “If testing is so safe, then why not blast a hole under the Eiffel Tower?”. Such a response goes beyond being afraid of the consequences of unleashing unnatural forces deep in the bed of the Pacific Ocean. At a visceral level, people think that the government of France is cynical and unjust in the way it treats those of us who live within proximity of the blast sites.
Of course the French officials have been quick to trot out a host of arguments justifying their decision. They argue that a limited number of 'real-time' tests are needed so that they can generate data allowing them to migrate to computer simulated test-beds. They argue that tests are necessary to ensure the safe handling of their existing stock-pile of warheads. For all we know, they may even argue that the world is a safer place if potential aggressors know that France's independent nuclear capacity, the 'Force de Frappe', is fully functional and primed for action!
Arguments such as these may carry some weight. Yet, they have done little to stem the tide of vehement opposition being directed at all things French. And it is at this point that I believe that we encounter a matter for concern.
While agreeing with most people that the resumption of testing is wrong, I am distressed to see evidence of people mounting attacks against individual citizens in Australia just because of their French accent or descent. And yet this is exactly what happened when someone lit a fire in an industrial waste bin outside a bakery run by a French expatriate. The vandal's intention? Presumably, to register their protest against the French.
While understanding that tempers have flared, there is no justification for people visiting retribution on the heads of innocent individuals who, for all we know, are equally opposed to President Chirac's decision. It's difficult to imagine any reasonable person wanting to support the actions of the bully who set the fire outside the bakery. Yet how different is this act of vandalism to a decision to punish the French by boycotting the purchase of their goods and services (or even things made here and bearing a strong connection to things Gallic)?
At first glance, many will respond by saying that there is a considerable difference between the two cases. Vandalism is, in most societies, a criminal act. Consumer boycotts offer a legal means by which people can play a role in influencing change by 'voting' with their money. In any case, who would criticise a consumer for choosing to do business with those whose values they find palatable? Not I. I welcome the fact that people choose to link their values with purchasing decisions. After all, this is the basis of campaigns for dolphin-safe tuna and ethical investment.
The trouble with boycotts is that they are principally about punishing the guilty by (inadvertently) harming the innocent. Pouring French champagne down the toilet is, in part, a symbolic act of protest. It is also thought to be a way to harm the French economy and thus, the government of France. The trouble is that in seeking to punish the French government, countless innocent by-standers are also likely to be harmed.
If we wish to punish the French government, then how can we ignore the moral significance of using farmers, bakers, vintners, car manufacturers, couturiers and so on as the means by which we hurt the real target of our anger?
There are plenty of examples where we readily condemn people who use others as means to their own ends - even where those ends are laudable. For example, we are right to object to medical experimentation practised without consent - even if a cure for the most debilitating of diseases were to be the result. We prosecute, as war criminals, those who punish civilians as a way of 'sending a message' to the leaders of a belligerent foe.
Examples such as these may seem extreme. However, what if boycotts cause people to lose their jobs - with all the attendant social dislocation that follows. What if families break up under the strain of repairing a business brought to its knees by the boycott? And what if the people being harmed are totally opposed to the tests but powerless to influence their government in time to avoid the worst effects of the boycott?
I mention this - not because I want to denounce those who boycott French produce, but because I wish them to realise that the cost of such action is borne by those who consent and those who do not. Also harmed are the 'innocent' French people and their colleagues, in Australia, who are caught in the crossfire.
In short, I want to encourage people to examine the moral significance of their reasons for boycotting French produce. In the end, we might recognise the harm that we do and still conclude that it is less than the harm done by not voting with our dollars. At least then we will know the moral cost of our outrage and not just the loss of the pleasure of a fine French champagne!
It seems a pity to me that our actions are unlikely to have much of an impact on the real villains in this piece. Then again, as Edmund Burke observed when commenting on another episode in French history, “All that evil needs to flourish is that good men [sic] do nothing”.
Dr Simon Longstaff is Executive Director of St James Ethics Centre.
Article written for publication in the Australian Financial Review, June 1995
© St James Ethics Centre
