While the total prevention of the use of violent methods remains the ideal, it is also useful to consider methods in which the use of violence is reduced, minimized or controlled. It is therefore important to examine cases in which this has occurred, because these might then become examples to guide us in other crisis situations.

Much can be learned from the recent Mohawk blockades in Quebec province, in which the Canadian army was called in to massively intervene. While this was a very acute crisis in which tensions were extremely high, and while both sides were heavily armed with lethal weapons, bloodshed and injury was almost totally avoided, as the parties maneuvered to achieve their aims.

Intensive negotiations were part of the process, as were threats, accusations of intimidation and violations of rights, and vilification and verbal abuse at the barricades. It was by no means a case of Gandhian nonviolence on either side, no exercise in “loving your enemy”. And yet, the only fatality occurred at the very beginning of the outbreaks, when a Quebec provincial policeman was shot when the police tried to storm the barricades at Oka. It is not known if the shooting was accidental or deliberate, or whose bullet found its mark. There were also injuries when an undisciplined crowd of white residents of Chatauguay threw stones at Mohawk civilians evacuating Kanawahke, and the police did not intervene. But no shots were fired by the heavily armed Mohawk warriors and the Canadian army personnel, who faced each other for weeks at close distances from each other, so close that they could (and did) shout insults at each other.

We are describing here a hybrid case, neither pure violence nor pure nonviolence. While pure nonviolence would have been preferable, since the action did not start out that way, it is possible that what actually happened was the best that could be done under the circumstances.

We are leaving out of consideration here altogether the question whether the army should have been called in at all; whether immediate substantive negotiations on the Mohawk land claims and nationhood claims, which were the fundamental causes of the outbreaks, should have taken place instead. We are taking as given the situation after the army WAS called into action, and discussing only the merits of the tactics that were then resorted to to minimize the threatened violence.

We are tempted to call the army’s actions “non-offensive offence”, in an obvious wordplay on “non-offensive defence” as advocated in Europe. The army’s task was to take down the Mohawk barricades, and this action is “offence”, in the sense of initiating actions that would take away the adversary’s existing tactical advantage. However, the prominently proclaimed tactic of the army not to shoot first (though they would shoot if fired upon) could be labelled as “non-offensive”. The army publicly pledged itself (and the whole nation witnessed this on television) not to initiate violence, in spite of its overwhelming military superiority over the Mohawk Warriors in both numbers and weapons. The army would not rush the barricades in a surprise attack, since such tactics elsewhere had resulted in bloody massacres (e.g. in the Attica prison riots in New York state).

The actions carried out were not nonviolence, as already mentioned, but they were also not “non-offensive defence”. The weapons possessed by the army were NOT of a purely defensive character; they were quite capable of strong offensive action at a high level of violence. So the CAPABILITY for offence was certainly there, but the announced INTENT was not to use it, or rather not to use it first. To make this intent credible, extensive use was made of the public media; reporters were present during some very intense episodes of confrontation, so the public could have a look on their TV sets at situations that threatened to erupt at any moment. It may have been partly the knowledge of this public exposure that prevented the worst from happening.

The army also made use of press conferences. The press conference of August 28 was held at a high point in the crisis, when negotiations had broken off and the army was asked by the government to take down the barricades. There was widespread public fear of impending violence. At the press conference, the army commander announced that he will carry out the order and “will succeed”, but at the same time pledged that his men would not be the first to fire at the Mohawks. He also promised to keep the Mohawks and the public fully informed beforehand of any moves that they decided to take, i.e. a pledge of no secrecy and no surprise. (There was later a partial retreat from this pledge, however.)

How were the barricades to be taken down without a bloody assault? the reporters asked. The army explained, at this memorable press conference, that their first hope was that the Mohawks themselves would cooperate in the removal of the barricades, without this being regarded as a surrender. (Substantive negotiations of all Indian land claims were promised in a separate speech by Prime Minister Mulroney, but the credibility of this promise was not very high, because similar promises were broken many times before.) If Mohawk cooperation cannot be obtained and resistance continues, the army would proceed to demolish the barricade by using their tanks as bulldozers, after giving ample warning to all persons to remove themselves from the scene. The army spokesman sounded calm, confident, professional – trying to soothe public fears, though he could not in fact be sure that such an operation could be carried out without casualties.

In the question period, one reporter asked when the army’s move to dismantle the barricades would begin. The stunning answer was “It has already begun. Don’t expect a frontal assault. This press conference is part of our tactics.” This means that the army’s tactics included verbal and psychological tools as well as military hardware; the verbal language of words as well as the body language of tank movements. Perhaps this is nothing new, but the conscious and deliberate use of this combination might serve to minimize violence in other confrontations.

While the official substantive negotiations had ended, the press conference was immediately followed by intense “tactical” negotiations between the adversaries, in a hotel in Dorval near Montreal. These negotiations worked out the details of the cooperative taking down of the barricades, by the army and Mohawks together, at Kanawahke. But at Kanasatake near Oka, where these troubles began, the Mohawks did not agree to cooperate. Eventually, most Mohawks at Kanasatake left the barricades in the face of predominant army strength, but a small remnant of 30 (including women and children) holed up in a building and decided to stay to the end. On September 2 began a close army encirclement of this building, an extremely tense situation, but still, astonishingly, with reporters present. On September 3 a shot was fired, it is not known by whom, but no one was hit. The Mohawk leader in the besieged enclave was seen running around from one armed post to another, his morning coffee cup still in hand, yelling “Hold your fire!” Fortunately they did and no one panicked. Later that morning, the army announced that they would not tighten the perimeter any tighter. This small band of Mohawks eventually agreed to leave, and there was an angry scuffle at the end, when the hated Quebec police (whom the Mohawks feared more than the army) tried to arrest some. But again, no one was hurt.

I did not recount all the events of this “Indian summer” in Canada, only the parts that I watched intensely on the media. Someone should do a more detailed case study. But my main concern is the applicability of what I have called “non-offensive offence” to other threatening situations. Would such methods be applicable in the Gulf crisis? Obviously, Iraq should withdraw from Kuwait, because they occupied and annexed it in violation of international law. (Never mind that other nations in the past have performed similar actions and got away with it.) But a major war in the Gulf area would be such a disaster, certainly to the region and perhaps to the world, that we must explore all other possibilities.

Could a U.N. force (and it should be under U.N. command, not “multinational”) announce that it will enter Kuwait and attempt to reoccupy it, but not fire the first shot? Perhaps this is far-fetched, but we don’t have any other “good” choices left.