Reconciliation: Role of British Foreign, Defence and International Development Policy

Lord Holmes of Richmond Excerpts

Friday 14th December 2018 Lords Chamber

[Lord Holmes of Richmond (Con)]

My Lords, it is a pleasure to speak in this debate. In doing so, I declare my interests as set out in the register. I thank the most reverend Primate for securing this debate at this time; it could barely be more prescient. I will speak about technology, international development and some of the programmes I am involved in.

The fourth industrial revolution, as it has been called, which includes all the technologies around artificial intelligence, machine learning, robotics, the internet of things and nanotechnology, offers huge possibilities for mankind in this country and internationally—to bring together, to collaborate, to connect. But there exists at its heart a piquant paradox. As a nation and a world, with smartphones in our hands and minute-by-minute media, we have never been more connected; and yet contrast that with the worrying rise of populism, protectionism, nationalism and retreatism.

There are such possibilities through 4IR to address some of the most intractable problems and to bring individuals, groups, organisations, institutions and nations closer together for an enduring good. It is a possibility but in no sense an inevitability. If we get it wrong, we may not only exacerbate division and increase exclusion, but at worst we could potentially wipe out civilisation and this planet through the use and deployment of autonomous weaponry. There is no room for reconciliation if we have all been reduced to ashes. Yet if we get it right and focus on what it is to be human—what we are when we come together in an inclusive environment—there are such possibilities right around the world.

One of the international development programmes I am involved in is the Global Disability Innovation Hub, which has this sense of innovation and possibility right at its heart. It was a legacy programme from the London 2012 Paralympic Games, one of the most inclusive events ever put together on planet earth, with 168 nations all coming together in east London in the most inclusive, diverse and accessible environment. Just under 5,000 athletes were brought together for the Games of the possible. Never mind the sport; there was that sense of possibility through creating an inclusive environment and an inclusive culture. That was the basis to roll it out and use the park as a blueprint for inclusive design and to take that to collaborate globally to see what is possible, not least in sub-Saharan Africa.

On many of these themes—assistive technology, computer design and, most importantly, as with all this stuff, participation and partnerships—no matter how much potential there is through innovation, the real magic always comes from the human. We know how to drive reconciliation, coming together and connection, and that comes through all those human qualities that we have and that we have known about for centuries.

Perhaps the greatest hope for real change at scale comes from the next generation, as it often does. This is clearly and fundamentally understood by the British Council in all the work it does around the world, putting dialogue in place of conflict—jaw-jaw instead of war-war. There are fabulous schemes, their intent so clear from their title, such as “Take a Child to School”. In Pakistan alone, almost a quarter of a million children who otherwise would not have had that experience have gone to school. We all know the devastating consequences—at an individual, national and global level—if that right to education is not guaranteed and assured for every young person right around the world.

There are extraordinary programmes happening, not least from our own Department for International Development. There could be no greater example of inclusion than our own Secretary of State launching the disability strategy from the Dispatch Box using British Sign Language for the first time in the Chamber. How inclusive is that?

There are great programmes happening and great possibilities, but we should never be naive about reconciliation. There is no purpose in pushing for reconciliation if we are still in the midst of trouble, no point pretending we are upon a host of daffodils if in reality we are closer to a much darker place. As Oasis put it:

“Some might say they don’t believe in heaven

Go and tell it to the man who lives in hell”.

Hell is the experience for so many people across the planet, right now, as we conduct this debate. It has not been the best week for British politics—it was an interminable Tuesday—but that was as nothing compared to the daily experience of millions of people around the world this very day.

We cannot be naive about that: reconciliation is nothing if we cannot tell the fundamental truth. Truth comes before reconciliation and enables reconciliation, no matter how hard, painful or uncomfortable those truths almost certainly will be. Unless we stand on that solid ground, in any situation, there can be no potential for coming together and reconciliation. It cannot be faked or glossed over if we want real, sustainable coming together and connection, and a commitment to a brighter and better future.

I do not like overly deconstructing the English language, but if we get it right in terms of a more inclusive approach—as is our aim with the Global Disability Innovation Hub—and if we can develop, foster and enable those inclusive cultures, perhaps we can do a little of what we might call pre-conciliation: mitigating, if not reducing, the need for reconciliation through avoiding, as far as possible, some of the most intractable and difficult situations in the first instance.

Alongside that, we should consider the central place of trust. From the truth, trust must emerge. That is how trust can come from the former aggressor or former oppressor and that is how the aggressed and oppressed can then trust those individuals, institutions and nations. And those individuals, institutions and nations can do this, not in a grandiose way but day by day, minute by minute, to demonstrate that going forward they are trustworthy.

Rather than merely wait for reconciliation, important, powerful and meaningful though it can be, we should all consider what role we could and must play, often in the midst of the mire and the madness. There is no more shocking or sickening example in recent history than what we saw in Nazi Germany—that eternal stain at the centre of Europe. I am reminded often of the Talmudic verse:

“He who saves the life of one saves the world entire”.

Oskar Schindler knew this, as did hundreds of others, whose names are unknown: to do the right thing, even against the prevailing military force and the most powerful propaganda machine we have ever seen in recent history. We must do the right thing even when no one is looking; do the right thing even though it may cost you your life, as it did for so many; do the right thing even on the darkest of days.

Perhaps it is time—perhaps it is even well over time—that we all put on our armour of light and engaged in the most practical of all pursuits: to do the right thing. We must see what we can do at that most practical level to help, support, enable, inspire, engage and include. We must put on our armour of light and get about uniting and knitting together. Even a single stitch can secure.