Genocide Never Again

201 Pages·2005·0.58 MB·English

Praise for books by Nobel Peace Prize finalist
R. J. Rummel
"26th in a Random House poll on the best nonfiction book of the 20th Century"
Random House (Modern Library)
“. . . the most important . . . in the history of international relations.”
John Norton Moore Professor of Law and
Director, Center for National Security Law, former
Chairman of the Board of Directors of the U. S. Institute of Peace
“. . . among the most exciting . . . in years.”
Jim Powell
“. . . most comprehensive . . . I have ever encountered . . . illuminating . . . .”
Storm Russell
“One more home run . . . .”
Bruce Russett, Professor of International Relations
“. . . has profoundly affected my political and social views.”
Lurner B Williams
“. . . truly brilliant . . . ought to be mandatory reading.”
Robert F. Turner, Professor of Law, former President of U.S. Institute of Peace
". . . highly recommend . . . ."
Cutting Edge
“We all walk a little taller by climbing on the shoulders of Rummel’s work.”
Irving Louis Horowitz, Professor Of Sociology.
". . . everyone in leadership should read and understand . . . ."
DivinePrinciple.com
“. . .exciting . . . pushes aside all the theories, propaganda, and wishful thinking . . . .”
www.alphane.com
“. . . world's foremost authority on the phenomenon of ‘democide.’”
American Opinion Publishing
“. . . excellent . . . .”
Brian Carnell
“. . . bound to be become a standard work . . . .”
James Lee Ray, Professor of Political Science
“. . . major intellectual accomplishment . . .will be cited far into the next century”
Jack Vincent, Professor of Political Science.”
“. . . most important . . . required reading . . . .”
thewizardofuz (Amazon.com)
“. . . valuable perspective . . . .”
R.W. Rasband
“ . . . offers a desperately needed perspective . . . .”
Andrew Johnstone
“. . . eloquent . . . very important . . . .”
Doug Vaughn
“. . . should be required reading . . .shocking and sobering . . . .”
Sugi Sorensen
NEVER AGAIN Book 5
GENOCIDE
NEVER AGAIN
R.J. RUMMEL
Llumina Press
Copyright © 2005 Rudy Rummel
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in
any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, re-
cording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in
writing from both the copyright owner and the publisher.
Requests for permission to make copies of any part of this work should be mailed to
Permissions Department, Llumina Press, PO Box 772246, Coral Springs, FL 33077-
2246
ISBN: 1-59526-075-7
1-59526-076-5
Printed in the United States of America by Llumina Press
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Rummel, R. J. (Rudolph J.), 1932-
Genocide never again / R.J. Rummel.
p. cm. -- (Never again ; bk. 5)
ISBN 1-59526-075-7 (hardcover : alk. paper) -- ISBN 1-59526-076-5 (pbk. :
alk. paper)
1. Genocide--Fiction. I. Title. II. Series.
PS3568.U447G46 2005
813'.6--dc22 2005004369
Relevant books by R.J. Rummel:
Understanding Conflict and War (five volumes)
Lethal Politics: Soviet Genocide and Mass Murder
Since 1917
China’s Bloody Century: Genocide and Mass Murder
Since 1900
Democide: Nazi Genocide and Mass Murder
Death By Government
Power Kills: Democracy as a Method of Nonviolence
Saving Lives, Enriching Life:
Freedom as a Right and a Moral Good (online book)
Never Again Series (Alternative History)
War and Democide Never Again
Nuclear Holocaust Never Again
Reset Never Again
Red Terror Never Again
Genocide Never Again
Never Again: Ending War, Democide, & Famine
Through Democratic Freedom
(forthcoming nonfiction supplement to the Never Again Series)
Vietnam Never Again (forthcoming)
Tell me, Professor, can we export democratic freedom
to other countries?
What a ridiculous question.
Ridiculous? How can that be? It’s a question often
asked by commentators, intellectuals, and academics.
It’s ridiculous because freedom is the most basic
human right. It is not being exported to other peoples.
Rather, the chains are being removed that prevent people
from enjoying this human right.
Acknowledgements
As with all my books in this series, I owe much to the thorough
evaluation, many helpful suggestions, and careful editing of Marg
Gilks. And I continue to be indebted to the many visitors to my web-
site at www.hawaii.edu/powerkills/ who commented on or questioned
the material there. They often had an impact on this series, and this
particular book.
Then, as always, and surely foremost, is my wife Grace. She con-
tinues to make these novels possible. Without her at my side, I would
not have written any of them. A hug, baby.
To be sure, this is a book of fiction. Although some characters
may in name and position bear a striking resemblance to historical
figures, they are fictional. Nonetheless, I must say again that whatever
errors of fictional facts exist are mine, and wholly mine.

Chapter 1
September 11, 1911
Frankfurt, Germany
Fourth Universe
B
ayonet in hand, she stood over him as he slept.
It was barely past midnight. He lay on his back under a woolen
blanket, and in the dark she could just make out his thin nose,
heavy brows, and mustache. She didn’t have to see more. She had seen
enough of his ugly face in the newspapers, when he received the Order
of Merit from the Kaiser.
She wanted to spit on him, but she would do that afterward.
This so-called hero of Germany was nothing more than an obscene
mass murderer. She knew by heart what he had once said about his bru-
tality in suppressing native African resistance to German occupation in
Africa. As she looked over his sleeping body to find the perfect place to
thrust the knife, she repeated it to herself: “I wipe out rebellious tribes
with streams of blood and streams of money. Only following this
cleansing can something new emerge.” She had read and reread that
passage in disbelief that such evil could exist in a civilized man’s heart.
Because of his reputation for success, in 1904 the Kaiser sent him
to German Southwest Africa to suppress a rebellion of the Herero tribe.
His ten thousand well-armed German soldiers did more than defeat the
poorly armed warriors. They killed Herero whether armed or not,
sometimes whole families, and drove the rest into the Kalahari Desert.
And then they poisoned the wells.
She remembered very well one more thing: his extermination order.
She looked at this butcher who was breathing his last and, again draw-
ing on her special talent for remembering her theater lines, she repeated
the order to herself, her imagined voice a low growl. “All the Herero
must leave the land. If they refuse, then I will force them to do it with
the big guns. Any Herero found within German borders, with or with-
out a gun, will be shot. No prisoners will be taken. This is my decision
for the Herero people.”
2 R. J. Rummel
All this was evil enough. But what drove her here was what he said
about women and children: To receive women and children, most of
them ill, is a serious danger to the German troops. And to feed them is
an impossibility. I find it appropriate that the nation perishes instead of
infecting our soldiers.
His orders were carried out. Out of about eighty thousand Herero,
no more than fifteen thousand survived. And it was not only the Her-
ero. He also had murdered the rebellious Nama, killing over ten
thousand of them—more than half the tribe. He had the rest incarcer-
ated in concentration camps, where many more died slowly of disease
and mistreatment.
Yes, she thought, you are the Kaiser’s hero. But not a hero for all
Germans. Not for me.
She found the spot. Positioning herself, she spread her legs, raising
the bayonet above his body with two hands. She hesitated, marveling at
the power she now had over this famous general’s life. Then her eyes
narrowed to slits and she compressed her lips into a thin line as she
tightened her grip on the bayonet.
With all her strength, she plunged it straight down, through the
blanket and into his heart.
He gasped. His eyes jerked open and his body heaved, his feet
drumming against the mattress. Then he fell back. He was still as his
final breath rattled out of him. His eyes remained open. Staring into the
flames of hell, she thought.
She put her finger on the carotid vein in his throat to feel for a
heartbeat. Satisfied there was none, she tried to withdraw her bayonet,
but it was stuck in his sternum. She had to climb onto the bed and put
her knee on his stomach to get the leverage to wiggle it out. She
cleaned it on the sheet.
Standing beside the bed again, she reached into the pocket of her
black pants and took out the note she’d prepared for him. She leaned
over him and pinned the note to his nostril with one of the pins she had
used to keep her hair in place under her black cap.
Then she spit on him.
As she left by the way she’d slipped in, she took one last look over
her shoulder at his body. “Goodbye. Nice meeting you, General von
Trotha. I guess we will never meet again.”