After thousands of years, the dream of a world without war may seem hopelessly unrealistic. But, as Winslow Myers shows in this concise, eloquent primer, what is truly unrealistic is the notion that war remains a reasonable solution to the conflicts on our planet. He begins by showing why war has become obsolete (though obviously not extinct): it doesn't solve the problems that ostensibly justify it; its costs are unacceptably high; the destructiveness of modern weapons could lead to human extinction; and there are better alternatives. After elaborating on these points, he outlines a new way of thinking that will be necessary if we are to move beyond war, in particular a recognition of our "oneness" and global interdependence. Finally, he outlines practical alternatives and inspiring examples that anticipate the goal of a world "beyond war."

A profoundly heartening view of human nature, Beyond War offers a hopeful prognosis for a future without war. Douglas P. Fry convincingly argues that our ancient ancestors were not innately warlike--and neither are we. He points out that, for perhaps ninety-nine percent of our history, for well over a million years, humans lived in nomadic hunter-and-gatherer groups, egalitarian bands where warfare was a rarity. Drawing on archaeology and fascinating recent fieldwork on hunter-gatherer bands from around the world, Fry debunks the idea that war is ancient and inevitable. For instance, among Aboriginal Australians, warfare was an extreme anomaly. Fry also points out that even today, when war seems ever present, the vast majority of us live peaceful, nonviolent lives. We are not as warlike as we think, and if we can learn from our ancestors, we may be able to move beyond war to provide real justice and security for the world.

A collection of essays exploring the world-wide U.S. military base system and its interplay with social relations of gender and sexuality in the U.S. and foreign host nations.

In a fascinating contribution to Civil War history, this book goes to the camps--where, perhaps ingloriously, soldiers spent most of their time--to reveal what they ate, what they wore, and what they did to combat boredom. 75 photos throughout.

Chronicles the stories of Columbian children who have lost parents, homes, schools, and any hope of day-to-day security, yet work for change and face the future with the confidence that their efforts will make a difference.

It was like I was in battle, and a barrage of weaponry was thrown at me, like misgivings, haunting memories, and tears that were so poignantly and strategically shot. I had no defense, and in my mind, I became a casualty of war, believing I was wounded, lying in a hospital bed, relieved to be safe and out of the war. When I got home, I left the war in Vietnam, and once I was on American soil, life started over. The past was the past. The challenge of the next fifty years was to keep it in the past. But that wasn't always easy. I had nightmares that subsided only when everyday life challenges took precedence in our family. I had moments of depression and guilt and memories that filled the spaces brought on by scents, sights, and sounds. I couldn't read stories about Vietnam or view Vietnam films or war movies. I kept them out of my life. I had fifty years of denial, but one day, God, whom I kept in my back pocket, pulled my past out and placed it before me, demanding that I confront it. I prayed, "My God, who am I? Please help me," and the rest is history. I am still dealing with it, but I am at peace. My spirit was wounded; now I'm healed. My story has changed over the years, but now it has a happy ending. This story represents one soldier's feelings during battles and the daily regimen of a soldier waiting to fulfill their 365-day stint in 'Nam. It is the story of one man's true feelings frozen for fifty years.

The long-standing debate over the origins of violence has resurfaced over the last two decades. There has been a proliferation of studies on violence, from both cross-cultural and ethnographic and prehistoric perspectives, based on a reading of archaeological and bioarchaeological records in a variety of territories and chronologies. The vast body of osteoarchaeological and architectural evidence reflects the presence of interpersonal violence among the first farmer groups throughout Europe, and, even earlier, between hunter-gatherer societies of the Mesolithic. The studies in Beyond War present the necessity of rethinking the concept of “violence” in archaeology. This overcomes the old conception that limits violence to its most evident expressions in war and intra- or extra-group conflict, opening up the debate on violence, which allows the advancement of knowledge of the social life and organization of prehistoric societies. Determining archaeological indicators to identify violent practices and to analyse their origin and causes is fundamental here, and represents the only way to find out when and under what historical conditions prehistoric societies began to organize themselves by exercising structural violence.