| Of all human vanities, there is none greater than to contemplate 
                one's "place in history". Posterity reserves its bitterest mockery 
                for those who presume to foresee how they will be judged in 
                retrospect. Hitler's "Thousand Year Reich" was annihilated just 
                as comprehensively, and even more swiftly, than the empire of 
                Shelley's Ozymandias, the "King of Kings", who proclaimed:  
                    "Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"Nothing 
                    beside remains. Round the decay
 Of that colossal wreck, 
                    boundless and bare
 The lone and level sands stretch far 
                    away.
 Yet, with no greater reason than an accident of the calendar, 
                unprecedented numbers are asking how they will be recalled by 
                history - if not as individuals, or as nation-states, then as 
                the children of an epoch. Scribes and scholars pose the question, 
                "How will the Twentieth Century be remembered?" There are three obvious answers: as the century of technology; 
                as the century of inhumanity; and as the century of environmental 
                vandalism. As to technology, it is undoubtedly the case that the Twentieth 
                Century's progress - if "progress" is the right word - exceeds 
                by a factor of many times humanity's technological development 
                up to the beginning of the century. But in truth, the same could 
                equally be said of the Nineteenth Century, of the Eighteenth 
                Century, and even of the Seventeenth Century. Technology has 
                continued to expand exponentially, and it is arrogant to assume 
                that the great technological achievements of the Twentieth Century 
                will be viewed by future generations as having a significance 
                equivalent to the invention of the printing press or the steam 
                engine. As to inhumanity, it could hardly be doubted that the Twentieth 
                Century has witnessed, on more than one occasion, what Winston 
                Churchill accurately described as "a monstrous tyranny, never 
                surpassed in the dark, lamentable catalogue of human crime". 
                But the horrors perpetrated under Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot, Idi 
                Amin, Duvalier, Pinochet, Saddam Hussein, Milosovich, and others 
                of the Twentieth Century, are remarkable for their scale rather 
                than their originality. The "dark, lamentable catalogue of human 
                crime" includes villains who were (arguably) equally as wicked, 
                from Caligula to Robespierre, from Attila the Hun and Genghis 
                Khan to Ivan the Terrible, and from Vlad Dracul ("the Impaler", 
                from whom the Dracula legend originated) to the Spanish Inquisitor-General 
                de Torquemada. Nor is the Twentieth Century's environmental vandalism anything 
                more than a continuation of what began with the Industrial Revolution. 
                Although the problem is magnified, at least it can be said of 
                the Twentieth Century that mankind finally recognised the importance 
                of protecting the ecosystem, and took the first (albeit inadequate) 
                steps towards doing so. One's place in history is not fixed by what came before, 
                but by what came after. Salieri may have been the greatest composer 
                of his day, introducing harmonic devices and other musical techniques 
                which were unknown to previous generations of composers. Yet 
                Salieri has become a footnote to the history of music, remembered 
                only for his (much exaggerated) rivalry with the younger Mozart, 
                because, whatever Salieri did, Mozart did better. Sir Isaac 
                Newton modestly acknowledged the contribution of his predecessors 
                to his own success as a mathematician and physicist: "If I have 
                seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants." 
                Yet it is Newton, rather than the giants on whose shoulders 
                he stood, on whom history has conferred its greatest accolades.  Similarly, the Twentieth Century will be remembered for what 
                comes after it. Let us hope, indeed, that it will be remembered 
                for centuries to come as the era of the fiercest wars, the worst 
                acts of terror, the most appalling abuses of human rights, the 
                most egregious environmental vandalism, in the history of humankind. 
                For if the Twentieth Century is so remembered, it will only 
                be because the world has become a significantly better place 
                in the Twenty-First and succeeding centuries.  Nobody can predict, with certainty, whether this will be 
                so. But - vanity of vanities - the Officious Bystander proposes 
                two more humble predictions. First, that the Twentieth Century will be recalled as a turning-point 
                in the attitude of civilised nations to the use of military 
                force. At the dawn of the Twentieth Century, and at least for 
                its first half, even civilised nations - by which I mean those 
                with well-developed liberal-democratic traditions - considered 
                acceptable the use of military power to achieve territorial, 
                economic and political advantages. Though Nuremberg declared 
                it a crime to "wage aggressive warfare", there is a cogent argument 
                that at least one "civilised" country (according to the definition 
                mentioned above), namely the United States, did not resile from 
                the use of force to pursue territorial, economic and political 
                ambitions, at least until the Vietnam War ended. Russia, which 
                does not have a well-developed liberal-democratic tradition, 
                maintained that attitude into the 1980s with its expansionist 
                adventure in Afghanistan, and arguably continues that policy 
                in Chechnia. Still, over the second half of the Twentieth Century, there 
                has evolved the notion that the military power of civilised 
                countries exists for a single purpose - as Woodrow Wilson put 
                it, in seeking the approval of Congress for America's intervention 
                in the First World War, to make "the world ... safe for democracy". The extent to which this precept has determined the military 
                policies of the world's civilised nations - to the exclusion 
                of considerations of territorial, economic and political self-interest 
                - is debatable as regards conflicts like the two World Wars, 
                Korea, and the Gulf War. But the last two major military endeavours 
                of the Twentieth Century - the NATO intervention in Kosovo and 
                the Australian-led, UN backed intervention in East Timor - must 
                surely be judged by any impartial observer as largely, if not 
                entirely, altruistic. In a general sense, no doubt, there is 
                an element of self-interest amongst NATO countries in restoring 
                stability in the Balkans, as there was in restoring a friendly 
                administration to the oil-rich state of Kuwait in the Gulf War. 
                But Australia can certainly hold its head up high, and declare 
                that we risked prejudicing our own self-interest with a great 
                and powerful neighbour, to intervene in East Timor exclusively 
                for humanitarian reasons. This is a new phenomenon. It is difficult to identify any 
                other time in history when military force has been used entirely 
                for a benevolent purpose, without any thought of self-interest, 
                and even contrary to a country's economic interests. What makes 
                the East Timor intervention all the more laudable is the sheer 
                boldness when a country of fewer than 20 millions - a country 
                which is far from being a world power - risks offending a country 
                with a population more than ten times greater, and a GDP almost 
                twice our own. A closely related development is the resolution by civilised 
                countries that, whilst the world is made safe for democracy, 
                it is made unsafe for those who practise genocide, terrorism 
                and other crimes against humanity. Although General Pinochet 
                ultimately escaped trial and punishment, his case creates a 
                remarkable precedent. The House of Lords swept aside issues 
                of territorial sovereignty and executive immunity to declare 
                that crimes against humanity may be tried and punished wherever 
                the offender can be apprehended, and regardless of the offender's 
                princely or presidential status. Not since Roman times, when 
                pirates were declared hostes humani generis - enemies 
                of all mankind - has international law set its face so resolutely 
                against a particular scourge, to declare that the miscreant 
                shall have no shelter or refuge anywhere on the planet. The Officious Bystander's other prediction is more ambivalent. 
                Undoubtedly, the Twentieth Century will be remembered as the 
                time in mankind's history when we achieved supremacy over infectious 
                micro-organisms. What remains to be seen is whether this supremacy 
                will prove to be temporary or enduring.  Prior to the discovery of Penicillin by Sir Alexander Fleming, 
                and its clinical application by Baron Florey of Adelaide, humanity 
                was at the mercy of bacteria. Prevention of infections, through 
                general hygiene and the use of antiseptics, was possible; there 
                was no known cure. Infant mortality caused by bacterial infection, 
                and the premature deaths of otherwise healthy men and women, 
                were a fact of life. In many cases, the only treatment was amputation, 
                and even this drastic remedy often failed to prevent the spread 
                of infection. The last 60 years represents the only period in the history 
                of our planet when human beings have not lived in fear of bacterial 
                infections. But who knows how long this will continue? The over-use 
                and misuse of antibiotics has increasingly led to the development 
                of more virulent strains. We are beginning to see the evolution 
                of bacteria which resist every known form of antibiotic.  The war between the Earth's most advanced species of organisms, 
                and its simplest and most primitive organisms, will continue 
                well into the future. The notion that infectious bacteria can 
                ever be totally eliminated, which was prevalent in the 1960s 
                and 1970s, is now plainly a pipe-dream. The most that we can 
                ever hope to achieve is a kind of armed truce, whilst human 
                ingenuity races to develop new and different responses to the 
                ever more hardy bacterium. Or possibly - just possibly - an entirely different approach 
                will prove a more enduring success than antibiotics. Current 
                research into the development of bacteriophages - viruses which 
                kill bacteria - looks promising. There is a logical attraction 
                to the idea that phages can succeed where antibiotics are beginning 
                to fail, because phages, as living organisms, are able to adapt 
                and mutate just as the bacteria themselves develop more resistant 
                strains. Another approach which has been mooted is the deliberate 
                reintroduction of non-resistant bacteria, in the hope that this 
                will dilute the bacterial gene-pool, and reverse the trend towards 
                antibiotic resistence amongst common bacterial pathogens. In the Twenty-First Century, we may, with some luck, stay 
                one step ahead of the evolving bacteria; or we may lose the 
                war altogether. On any view, the second half of the Twentieth 
                Century will be remembered as the only period in history when 
                humankind had bacteria at our mercy. |