Bard's work offers sense of hope to all

ONE might think there is an ocean of distance between the hard-nosed give-and-take of international diplomacy as it is practised at the United Nations in New York, and the lyrical verse of Robert Burns that emanated from rural Scotland two centuries ago. But look closer.

To take just one example, Burns was born into poverty, and spent his youth working on a farm. Burns’ poems dignify and illuminate the struggle faced by the vast majority of the world’s population today.

Burns has also been described as a poet of the poor, an advocate for political and social change, and an opponent of slavery, pomposity and greed - all causes very much supported by the UN.

But it is one of Burns’s most famous lines - "a man’s a man for a’ that" - that I should like to serve as the touchstone for my remarks. And in particular his prayer, in the same poem, that "man to man, the world o’er, shall brothers be for a’ that".

Living together is the fundamental human project - not just in towns and villages from Scotland to South Africa, but also as a single human family facing common threats and opportunities.

The year just past has seen dramatic challenges to that project. The war in Iraq, failed negotiations on opening up the global trading system and other events have revealed deep fissures. These are not just differences over cotton exports or compliance with UN resolutions. There are world-views at odds.

For many decades now, states and peoples have woven a tapestry of rules, institutions and principles that, it was hoped, would promote prosperity and protect the peace. Today, this fabric may be starting to unravel, and I sense a great deal of anxiety about that, around the world.

Not because the system has been uniformly successful; quite the contrary, war and poverty have proven painfully chronic.

But because it does offer at least some possibility of order and justice in what so often seems a Hobbesian world. At a time when it is essential for us to tackle our problems together, we seem to be slipping into mutual distrust, protectionism and fear.

And at such a time, the persistence of prejudice should be especially troubling to us all. We should all feel pain when women are denied their freedom and dignity. We should all recognise the peril to our rights when anyone is dehumanised because of the colour of their skin, or when indigenous peoples are marginalised and held in contempt.

And we should all recognise the great power of intolerance to foment violence and generate the conditions that can abet ethnic cleansing, genocide and terrorism.

One of the most disturbing manifestations of bigotry today is Islamophobia - a new word for an old phenomenon. The Crusades and colonialism are just two examples of a poisoned past in which Muslims were first portrayed as hostile or dangerous, and then subjected to aggression and domination. In more recent decades, some have viewed Muslim countries as culturally unsuited to democracy.

The West’s late response to ethnic-cleansing in Bosnia, and the continuing tragic situation between Palestinians and Israelis, have led many Muslims to wonder whether their grievances and plight have an equal claim on the world’s conscience.

SINCE the September 11 terrorist attacks on the United States, which were condemned throughout the Muslim world, many Muslims, particularly in the West, have found themselves the objects of suspicion, harassment and discrimination.

And too many people see Islam as a monolith, and as intrinsically opposed to the West - when in fact Western and Islamic peoples have a long history of commerce, of intermingling and inter-marrying, and of influencing and enriching each other’s art, literature, science and much else besides.

Despite a discourse of centuries, caricature remains widespread, and the gulf of ignorance is dangerously deep. These issues have far-reaching implications for international harmony and peace.

Muslims - reformers and traditionalists, believers and secularists - are addressing them with great vigour, in particular the rights of women, the extremist threat and the contours of Islamic democracy.

Followers of other faiths owe it to them, and to themselves, to distinguish between disagreement and disdain; and between fair comment and unfounded condemnation. It would be unconscionable to add any further to the resentment and sense of injustice felt by members of one of the world’s great religions, cultures and civilisations.

Another dangerous hatred blights our world: anti-Semitism. No-one should underestimate the depth of the scars left by the long history of persecution, pogroms, institutionalised discrimination and other degradation, culminating in the Holocaust, that has been inflicted on the Jews.

Yet new wrongs are heaped upon old: by those who seek to deny the fact of the Holocaust or its uniqueness, and by those who continue to spread lies and vile stereotypes about Jews and Judaism. The recent upsurge of attacks on Jews, synagogues, cemeteries and other Jewish targets in Europe, Turkey and elsewhere, show this hatred to be not just the stuff of history, but virulent still.

The UN itself is still living with the legacy of the unfortunate resolution that declared Zionism to be a form of racism and racial discrimination, even though the General Assembly revoked it in 1991. In some cases, anti-Semitism appears to be a by-product of the Israel-Palestine conflict, particularly with the escalation of hostilities in the past several years.

Criticism of Israeli policies is one thing. But it is quite another when such critiques take the form of attacks, physical or verbal, on Jewish individuals and the symbols of their heritage and faith. The situation is painful and complex enough as a political matter, without adding religion and race to the debate.

No-one should be allowed to use criticism of Israel’s actions as a mask for anti-Semitism. Nor, on the other side, should Israel’s supporters use the charge of anti-Semitism to stifle legitimate discussion.

The UN, for its part, must reject all forms of racism and discrimination. Only in so doing, clearly and consistently, will it be true to its charter and to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and to people of all creeds and colours striving for their dignity.

IT is one thing to bemoan the persistence of prejudice, and quite another to actually do something about it. All too often, when faced with bigotry and nihilism, political leaders, governments and ordinary citizens are silent or complacent. Such passivity must not be allowed to masquerade as tolerance. It is more like complicity, since it emboldens the intolerant, and leaves victims defenceless.

True tolerance is an active, even assertive quality based on mutual respect.

Its aim must be, not to eliminate differences between human beings, but to embrace and even celebrate them as a source of joy and strength.

That is the world ethic that we need: a framework of shared values within which different peoples can coexist. Men and women must be able to follow their own paths without making war on each other.

They must have sufficient freedom to exchange ideas. They must be able to learn from each other. And that means that each nation must not only respect the culture and traditions of others, but must also allow its own citizens - women and men alike - the freedom to think for themselves.

The enterprise of living together is not easy. Including all people in one’s circle of concern requires us to go beyond our immediate family and friends, and to accept wider notions of kinship and connection. Even then, things will happen that will strain our capacity for dialogue and understanding. Burns himself was no stranger to dark turns of events. As he wrote, "man was made to mourn".

But we have just begun a new year. One can almost, still, hear the echo of millions of people singing Auld Lang Syne, Burns’ great ode to friendship.

So let us allow hope to be renewed. Let us admire the enduring resonance of the work of Robert Burns. And let us dream, as he did, of a true brotherhood - and sisterhood - that embraces and encompasses all humankind, and allows all people a chance to enjoy their inalienable rights, dignity and freedom.

• Kofi Annan is Secretary-General of the United Nations. This article is an extract from the Inaugural Robert Burns Memorial Lecture delivered in New York on January 13.