The Nobel Peace Prize for 2009
The Norwegian Nobel Committee has decided that the Nobel
Peace Prize for 2009 is to be awarded to President Barack Obama for his
extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation
between peoples. The Committee has attached special importance to Obama's
vision of and work for a world without nuclear weapons.
Obama has as President created a new climate in
international politics. Multilateral diplomacy has regained a central position,
with emphasis on the role that the United Nations and other international
institutions can play. Dialogue and negotiations are preferred as instruments
for resolving even the most difficult international conflicts. The vision of a
world free from nuclear arms has powerfully stimulated disarmament and arms
control negotiations. Thanks to Obama's initiative, the USA is now
playing a more constructive role in meeting the great climatic challenges the
world is confronting. Democracy and human rights are to be strengthened.
Only very rarely has a person to the same extent as Obama
captured the world's attention and given its people hope for a better future.
His diplomacy is founded in the concept that those who are to lead the world
must do so on the basis of values and attitudes that are shared by the majority
of the world's population.
For 108 years, the Norwegian Nobel Committee has sought to
stimulate precisely that international policy and those attitudes for which
Obama is now the world's leading spokesman. The Committee endorses Obama's
appeal that "Now is the time for all of us to take our share of
responsibility for a global response to global challenges."
Oslo,
October 9, 2009
http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/peace/laureates/2009/
Remarks by the President at the Acceptance of the Nobel
Peace Prize
Oslo City Hall,Oslo,
Norway,December
10, 2009 . 1:44 P.M. CET
THE PRESIDENT: Your
Majesties, Your Royal Highnesses, distinguished members of the Norwegian Nobel
Committee, citizens of America,
and citizens of the world:
I receive this honor with deep gratitude and great
humility. It is an award that speaks to
our highest aspirations -- that for all the cruelty and hardship of our world,
we are not mere prisoners of fate. Our
actions matter, and can bend history in the direction of justice.
And yet I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge the
considerable controversy that your generous decision has generated. (Laughter.)
In part, this is because I am at the beginning, and not the end, of my
labors on the world stage. Compared to
some of the giants of history who've received this prize -- Schweitzer and King;
Marshall and
Mandela -- my accomplishments are slight.
And then there are the men and women around the world who have been
jailed and beaten in the pursuit of justice; those who toil in humanitarian
organizations to relieve suffering; the unrecognized millions whose quiet acts
of courage and compassion inspire even the most hardened cynics. I cannot argue with those who find these men
and women -- some known, some obscure to all but those they help -- to be far
more deserving of this honor than I.
But perhaps the most profound issue surrounding my receipt
of this prize is the fact that I am the Commander-in-Chief of the military of a
nation in the midst of two wars. One of
these wars is winding down. The other is
a conflict that America did not seek; one in which we are joined by 42 other
countries -- including Norway -- in an effort to defend ourselves and all
nations from further attacks.
Still, we are at war, and I'm responsible for the deployment
of thousands of young Americans to battle in a distant land. Some will kill, and some will be killed. And so I come here with an acute sense of the
costs of armed conflict -- filled with difficult questions about the relationship
between war and peace, and our effort to replace one with the other.
Now these questions are not new. War, in one form or another, appeared with
the first man. At the dawn of history,
its morality was not questioned; it was simply a fact, like drought or disease
-- the manner in which tribes and then civilizations sought power and settled
their differences.
And over time, as codes of law sought to control violence
within groups, so did philosophers and clerics and statesmen seek to regulate
the destructive power of war. The
concept of a "just war" emerged, suggesting that war is justified
only when certain conditions were met:
if it is waged as a last resort or in self-defense; if the force used is
proportional; and if, whenever possible, civilians are spared from violence.
Of course, we know that for most of history, this concept of
"just war" was rarely observed.
The capacity of human beings to think up new ways to kill one another
proved inexhaustible, as did our capacity to exempt from mercy those who look
different or pray to a different God.
Wars between armies gave way to wars between nations -- total wars in
which the distinction between combatant and civilian became blurred. In the span of 30 years, such carnage would
twice engulf this continent. And while
it's hard to conceive of a cause more just than the defeat of the Third Reich
and the Axis powers, World War II was a conflict in which the total number of
civilians who died exceeded the number of soldiers who perished.
In the wake of such destruction, and with the advent of the
nuclear age, it became clear to victor and vanquished alike that the world
needed institutions to prevent another world war. And so, a quarter century after the United
States Senate rejected the League of Nations -- an idea for which Woodrow
Wilson received this prize -- America led the world in constructing an
architecture to keep the peace: a
Marshall Plan and a United Nations, mechanisms to govern the waging of war,
treaties to protect human rights, prevent genocide, restrict the most dangerous
weapons.
In many ways, these efforts succeeded. Yes, terrible wars have been fought, and
atrocities committed. But there has been
no Third World War. The Cold War ended
with jubilant crowds dismantling a wall.
Commerce has stitched much of the world together. Billions have been lifted from poverty. The ideals of liberty and self-determination,
equality and the rule of law have haltingly advanced. We are the heirs of the fortitude and
foresight of generations past, and it is a legacy for which my own country is
rightfully proud.
And yet, a decade into a new century, this old architecture
is buckling under the weight of new threats.
The world may no longer shudder at the prospect of war between two
nuclear superpowers, but proliferation may increase the risk of
catastrophe. Terrorism has long been a
tactic, but modern technology allows a few small men with outsized rage to
murder innocents on a horrific scale.
Moreover, wars between nations have increasingly given way
to wars within nations. The resurgence
of ethnic or sectarian conflicts; the growth of secessionist movements,
insurgencies, and failed states -- all these things have increasingly trapped
civilians in unending chaos. In today's
wars, many more civilians are killed than soldiers; the seeds of future
conflict are sown, economies are wrecked, civil societies torn asunder,
refugees amassed, children scarred.
I do not bring with me today a definitive solution to the
problems of war. What I do know is that
meeting these challenges will require the same vision, hard work, and
persistence of those men and women who acted so boldly decades ago. And it will require us to think in new ways
about the notions of just war and the imperatives of a just peace.
We must begin by acknowledging the hard truth: We will not eradicate violent conflict in our
lifetimes. There will be times when
nations -- acting individually or in concert -- will find the use of force not
only necessary but morally justified.
I make this statement mindful of what Martin Luther King Jr.
said in this same ceremony years ago:
"Violence never brings permanent peace. It solves no social problem: it merely creates new and more complicated
ones." As someone who stands here
as a direct consequence of Dr. King's life work, I am living testimony to the
moral force of non-violence. I know
there's nothing weak -- nothing passive -- nothing naïve -- in the creed and
lives of Gandhi and King.
But as a head of state sworn to protect and defend my
nation, I cannot be guided by their examples alone. I face the world as it is, and cannot stand
idle in the face of threats to the American people. For make no mistake: Evil does exist in the world. A non-violent movement could not have halted
Hitler's armies. Negotiations cannot
convince al Qaeda's leaders to lay down their arms. To say that force may sometimes be necessary
is not a call to cynicism -- it is a recognition of history; the imperfections
of man and the limits of reason.
I raise this point, I begin with this point because in many
countries there is a deep ambivalence about military action today, no matter
what the cause. And at times, this is
joined by a reflexive suspicion of America, the world's sole military
superpower.
But the world must remember that it was not simply
international institutions -- not just treaties and declarations -- that
brought stability to a post-World War II world.
Whatever mistakes we have made, the plain fact is this: The United States of America has helped
underwrite global security for more than six decades with the blood of our
citizens and the strength of our arms.
The service and sacrifice of our men and women in uniform has promoted
peace and prosperity from Germany
to Korea,
and enabled democracy to take hold in places like the Balkans. We have borne this burden not because we seek
to impose our will. We have done so out
of enlightened self-interest -- because we seek a better future for our
children and grandchildren, and we believe that their lives will be better if
others' children and grandchildren can live in freedom and prosperity.
So yes, the instruments of war do have a role to play in
preserving the peace. And yet this truth
must coexist with another -- that no matter how justified, war promises human
tragedy. The soldier's courage and
sacrifice is full of glory, expressing devotion to country, to cause, to
comrades in arms. But war itself is
never glorious, and we must never trumpet it as such.
So part of our challenge is reconciling these two seemingly
inreconcilable truths -- that war is sometimes necessary, and war at some level
is an expression of human folly.
Concretely, we must direct our effort to the task that President Kennedy
called for long ago. "Let us focus,"
he said, "on a more practical, more attainable peace, based not on a
sudden revolution in human nature but on a gradual evolution in human
institutions." A gradual evolution
of human institutions.
What might this evolution look like? What might these practical steps be?
To begin with, I believe that all nations -- strong and weak
alike -- must adhere to standards that govern the use of force. I -- like any head of state -- reserve the
right to act unilaterally if necessary to defend my nation. Nevertheless, I am convinced that adhering to
standards, international standards, strengthens those who do, and isolates and
weakens those who don't.
The world rallied around America
after the 9/11 attacks, and continues to support our efforts in Afghanistan,
because of the horror of those senseless attacks and the recognized principle
of self-defense. Likewise, the world
recognized the need to confront Saddam Hussein when he invaded Kuwait -- a
consensus that sent a clear message to all about the cost of aggression.
Furthermore, America
-- in fact, no nation -- can insist that others follow the rules of the road if
we refuse to follow them ourselves. For
when we don't, our actions appear arbitrary and undercut the legitimacy of
future interventions, no matter how justified.
And this becomes particularly important when the purpose of
military action extends beyond self-defense or the defense of one nation
against an aggressor. More and more, we
all confront difficult questions about how to prevent the slaughter of
civilians by their own government, or to stop a civil war whose violence and
suffering can engulf an entire region.
I believe that force can be justified on humanitarian
grounds, as it was in the Balkans, or in other places that have been scarred by
war. Inaction tears at our conscience
and can lead to more costly intervention later.
That's why all responsible nations must embrace the role that militaries
with a clear mandate can play to keep the peace.
America's
commitment to global security will never waver.
But in a world in which threats are more diffuse, and missions more
complex, America
cannot act alone. America alone
cannot secure the peace. This is true in
Afghanistan. This is true in failed states like Somalia, where
terrorism and piracy is joined by famine and human suffering. And sadly, it will continue to be true in
unstable regions for years to come.
The leaders and soldiers of NATO countries, and other
friends and allies, demonstrate this truth through the capacity and courage
they've shown in Afghanistan. But in many countries, there is a disconnect
between the efforts of those who serve and the ambivalence of the broader
public. I understand why war is not
popular, but I also know this: The
belief that peace is desirable is rarely enough to achieve it. Peace requires responsibility. Peace entails sacrifice. That's why NATO continues to be
indispensable. That's why we must
strengthen U.N. and regional peacekeeping, and not leave the task to a few
countries. That's why we honor those who
return home from peacekeeping and training abroad to Oslo
and Rome; to Ottawa
and Sydney; to Dhaka and Kigali
-- we honor them not as makers of war, but of wagers -- but as wagers of peace.
Let me make one final point about the use of force. Even as we make difficult decisions about
going to war, we must also think clearly about how we fight it. The Nobel Committee recognized this truth in
awarding its first prize for peace to Henry Dunant -- the founder of the Red
Cross, and a driving force behind the Geneva Conventions.
Where force is necessary, we have a moral and strategic
interest in binding ourselves to certain rules of conduct. And even as we confront a vicious adversary
that abides by no rules, I believe the United States of America must remain
a standard bearer in the conduct of war.
That is what makes us different from those whom we fight. That is a source of our strength. That is why I prohibited torture. That is why I ordered the prison at Guantanamo Bay closed. And that is why I have reaffirmed America's
commitment to abide by the Geneva Conventions.
We lose ourselves when we compromise the very ideals that we fight to
defend. (Applause.) And we honor -- we honor those ideals by
upholding them not when it's easy, but when it is hard.
I have spoken at some length to the question that must weigh
on our minds and our hearts as we choose to wage war. But let me now turn to our effort to avoid
such tragic choices, and speak of three ways that we can build a just and
lasting peace.
First, in dealing with those nations that break rules and
laws, I believe that we must develop alternatives to violence that are tough
enough to actually change behavior -- for if we want a lasting peace, then the
words of the international community must mean something. Those regimes that break the rules must be
held accountable. Sanctions must exact a
real price. Intransigence must be met
with increased pressure -- and such pressure exists only when the world stands
together as one.
One urgent example is the effort to prevent the spread of
nuclear weapons, and to seek a world without them. In the middle of the last century, nations
agreed to be bound by a treaty whose bargain is clear: All will have access to peaceful nuclear
power; those without nuclear weapons will forsake them; and those with nuclear
weapons will work towards disarmament. I
am committed to upholding this treaty.
It is a centerpiece of my foreign policy. And I'm working with President Medvedev to
reduce America and Russia's
nuclear stockpiles.
But it is also incumbent upon all of us to insist that
nations like Iran and North Korea do
not game the system. Those who claim to
respect international law cannot avert their eyes when those laws are
flouted. Those who care for their own
security cannot ignore the danger of an arms race in the Middle East or East Asia. Those
who seek peace cannot stand idly by as nations arm themselves for nuclear war.
The same principle applies to those who violate international
laws by brutalizing their own people.
When there is genocide in Darfur, systematic rape in Congo, repression in Burma -- there must be
consequences. Yes, there will be
engagement; yes, there will be diplomacy -- but there must be consequences when
those things fail. And the closer we
stand together, the less likely we will be faced with the choice between armed
intervention and complicity in oppression.
This brings me to a second point -- the nature of the peace
that we seek. For peace is not merely
the absence of visible conflict. Only a
just peace based on the inherent rights and dignity of every individual can
truly be lasting.
It was this insight that drove drafters of the Universal
Declaration of Human Rights after the Second World War. In the wake of devastation, they recognized
that if human rights are not protected, peace is a hollow promise.
And yet too often, these words are ignored. For some countries, the failure to uphold
human rights is excused by the false suggestion that these are somehow Western
principles, foreign to local cultures or stages of a nation's development. And within America, there has long been a
tension between those who describe themselves as realists or idealists -- a
tension that suggests a stark choice between the narrow pursuit of interests or
an endless campaign to impose our values around the world.I reject these
choices. I believe that peace is
unstable where citizens are denied the right to speak freely or worship as they
please; choose their own leaders or assemble without fear. Pent-up grievances fester, and the
suppression of tribal and religious identity can lead to violence. We also know that the opposite is true. Only when Europe
became free did it finally find peace. America has
never fought a war against a democracy, and our closest friends are governments
that protect the rights of their citizens.
No matter how callously defined, neither America's interests -- nor the
world's -- are served by the denial of human aspirations.
So even as we respect the unique culture and traditions of
different countries, America
will always be a voice for those aspirations that are universal. We will bear witness to the quiet dignity of
reformers like Aung Sang Suu Kyi; to the bravery of Zimbabweans who cast their
ballots in the face of beatings; to the hundreds of thousands who have marched
silently through the streets of Iran. It is telling that the leaders of these
governments fear the aspirations of their own people more than the power of any
other nation. And it is the
responsibility of all free people and free nations to make clear that these
movements -- these movements of hope and history -- they have us on their side.
Let me also say this:
The promotion of human rights cannot be about exhortation alone. At times, it must be coupled with painstaking
diplomacy. I know that engagement with
repressive regimes lacks the satisfying purity of indignation. But I also know that sanctions without
outreach -- condemnation without discussion -- can carry forward only a
crippling status quo. No repressive
regime can move down a new path unless it has the choice of an open door.
In light of the Cultural Revolution's horrors, Nixon's
meeting with Mao appeared inexcusable -- and yet it surely helped set China on a path
where millions of its citizens have been lifted from poverty and connected to
open societies. Pope John Paul's engagement
with Poland
created space not just for the Catholic Church, but for labor leaders like Lech
Walesa. Ronald Reagan's efforts on arms
control and embrace of perestroika not only improved relations with the Soviet
Union, but empowered dissidents throughout Eastern Europe. There's no simple formula here. But we must try as best we can to balance
isolation and engagement, pressure and incentives, so that human rights and
dignity are advanced over time.
Third, a just peace includes not only civil and political
rights -- it must encompass economic security and opportunity. For true peace is not just freedom from fear,
but freedom from want.
It is undoubtedly true that development rarely takes root
without security; it is also true that security does not exist where human
beings do not have access to enough food, or clean water, or the medicine and
shelter they need to survive. It does
not exist where children can't aspire to a decent education or a job that
supports a family. The absence of hope
can rot a society from within.
And that's why helping farmers feed their own people -- or
nations educate their children and care for the sick -- is not mere
charity. It's also why the world must
come together to confront climate change.
There is little scientific dispute that if we do nothing, we will face
more drought, more famine, more mass displacement -- all of which will fuel
more conflict for decades. For this
reason, it is not merely scientists and environmental activists who call for
swift and forceful action -- it's military leaders in my own country and others
who understand our common security hangs in the balance.
Agreements among nations.
Strong institutions. Support for
human rights. Investments in
development. All these are vital
ingredients in bringing about the evolution that President Kennedy spoke
about. And yet, I do not believe that we
will have the will, the determination, the staying power, to complete this work
without something more -- and that's the continued expansion of our moral
imagination; an insistence that there's something irreducible that we all
share.
As the world grows smaller, you might think it would be
easier for human beings to recognize how similar we are; to understand that
we're all basically seeking the same things; that we all hope for the chance to
live out our lives with some measure of happiness and fulfillment for ourselves
and our families.
And yet somehow, given the dizzying pace of globalization,
the cultural leveling of modernity, it perhaps comes as no surprise that people
fear the loss of what they cherish in their particular identities -- their
race, their tribe, and perhaps most powerfully their religion. In some places, this fear has led to
conflict. At times, it even feels like
we're moving backwards. We see it in the
Middle East, as the conflict between Arabs and
Jews seems to harden. We see it in
nations that are torn asunder by tribal lines.
And most dangerously, we see it in the way that religion is
used to justify the murder of innocents by those who have distorted and defiled
the great religion of Islam, and who attacked my country from Afghanistan. These extremists are not the first to kill in
the name of God; the cruelties of the Crusades are amply recorded. But they remind us that no Holy War can ever
be a just war. For if you truly believe
that you are carrying out divine will, then there is no need for restraint --
no need to spare the pregnant mother, or the medic, or the Red Cross worker, or
even a person of one's own faith. Such a
warped view of religion is not just incompatible with the concept of peace, but
I believe it's incompatible with the very purpose of faith -- for the one rule
that lies at the heart of every major religion is that we do unto others as we
would have them do unto us.
Adhering to this law of love has always been the core
struggle of human nature. For we are
fallible. We make mistakes, and fall
victim to the temptations of pride, and power, and sometimes evil. Even those of us with the best of intentions
will at times fail to right the wrongs before us.
But we do not have to think that human nature is perfect for
us to still believe that the human condition can be perfected. We do not have to live in an idealized world
to still reach for those ideals that will make it a better place. The non-violence practiced by men like Gandhi
and King may not have been practical or possible in every circumstance, but the
love that they preached -- their fundamental faith in human progress -- that
must always be the North Star that guides us on our journey.
For if we lose that faith -- if we dismiss it as silly or
naïve; if we divorce it from the decisions that we make on issues of war and
peace -- then we lose what's best about humanity. We lose our sense of possibility. We lose our moral compass.
Like generations have before us, we must reject that
future. As Dr. King said at this
occasion so many years ago, "I refuse to accept despair as the final
response to the ambiguities of history.
I refuse to accept the idea that the 'isness' of man's present condition
makes him morally incapable of reaching up for the eternal 'oughtness' that
forever confronts him."
Let us reach for the world that ought to be -- that spark of
the divine that still stirs within each of our souls. (Applause.)
Somewhere today, in the here and now, in the world as it is,
a soldier sees he's outgunned, but stands firm to keep the peace. Somewhere today, in this world, a young
protestor awaits the brutality of her government, but has the courage to march
on. Somewhere today, a mother facing
punishing poverty still takes the time to teach her child, scrapes together
what few coins she has to send that child to school -- because she believes
that a cruel world still has a place for that child's dreams.
Let us live by their example. We can acknowledge that oppression will
always be with us, and still strive for justice. We can admit the intractability of
depravation, and still strive for dignity.
Clear-eyed, we can understand that there will be war, and still strive
for peace. We can do that -- for that is
the story of human progress; that's the hope of all the world; and at this
moment of challenge, that must be our work here on Earth.
Thank you very much.
(Applause.)
END 2:20 P.M. CET
President Obama's Nobel Peace Prize Acceptance Speech from Oslo, Norway
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3uU_mCNcKM