Monthly Archives: November 2021

The Postwar Period in Alma

The major conflict between the Nephites and the Lamanites led by Nephite dissenters – an opportunistic foreign intervention into an ongoing Nephite civil war, one could say – ended in the 31st year of the judges, as noted in Alma 62:39. “And thus they had had wars, and bloodsheds, and famine, and affliction, for the space of many years. And there had been murders, and contentions, and dissensions, and all manner of iniquity among the people of Nephi.” While Mormon is quick to cite the righteous prayers and deeds immediately after that summary, he is equally quick to note that many Nephites and Lamanites had become hardened because of the length and intensity of the conflict.

Looking back at the summary I quoted, the narrative already explained the wars and bloodsheds to some extent. The famine had been mentioned in passing, but no details on how many people were impacted and when and how deep it went. Given that Mormon stated that he did not want to dwell on such things, it may well have been a significant, extended famine, and the suffering from it likely impacting the faith of the survivors. The next sentence mentions murders and contentions, which one could attribute solely to the Lamanite armies until one considers how, in times of war, the disruption in normal law and order opens up opportunities for people to commit murders and other crimes out of a desire to settle an old grudge. The Nephite polity had many cities that did not always respect each others’ borders: what happens when an overarching authority that prevents such tribal disputes is removed? Murders and contentions are what happens, and they can continue well after the resumption of civil authority, until such a time as the civil authority is able to exert itself to end the ongoing violence.

Then there is the word “dissensions.” In today’s term, we would call such people “collaborators.” Both people who were willing to switch sides as well as those forced into serving the conquerors could be seen as collaborators, and as such, would be hated by the survivors once the conquerors departed. Add in the element of famine, and there opens up a possible reference to “all manner of iniquity” – women either volunteering or being forced by their families into prostitution in exchange for food. During and following the Allied liberation of Axis-conquered territories in World War Two, there was famine and there were many women who were willing to exchange sex for food – such an arrangement is not novel to that conflict, but is as old as armies themselves.

Given the generally secondary position women have had historically, it becomes very easy to demonize and dehumanize women who slept with the enemy. They become the scapegoats that the nation can heap its emasculated shame upon and, in their punishment, forget the less obvious collaborations done by the men. And while the text is not explicit in mentioning such things, I believe it would be fair to assume that, as in other conflicts, such things did happen and that the Nephites found them to be damnable, justified in that damning or not.

The war itself saw a second wave of Nephite civil violence, with its perpetrators forced to take oaths to support the Nephite state or be killed. I’d imagine that the families of the slain along with those who were forced into supporting the rule of the judges would be in the number of those who had become hardened. Conversions made as an alternative to being put to death are not long-lasting.

Also among the hardened would be any Nephites who saw the brutality of the occupation through murdered relatives, mass graves, rapes, forced servitude, and unjust imprisonments and determined that God wasn’t there because of the sufferings endured. They were targeted in part because of their faith: so why didn’t their faith save everyone? Why didn’t it at least save a bigger fraction than it did? Why did the Sons of Helaman get chosen to survive all battles without loss of life and not the rest of the Nephite armies? There are deep philosophical and spiritual discussions to go with such questions, but the askers could also be asking rhetorically because they’ve already concluded from their doubts that God isn’t listening, doesn’t care, or doesn’t exist. And if they’re done with God, they’re likely to be done being a people who are targeted because they are lumped in with those who still believe as they once did.

I’ve cataloged a few groups of people who would be uncomfortable under a resumed rule of the judges, as it begins to be re-established in the 31st year. There are likely more nuances to the historical situation, which would produce additional groups of dissatisfied people. I’m sure the numbers grew when Moroni refortified the land after the conflict ended – people who expected the depredations of war to be over would not be happy about the mandatory labor duty in preparing for the next war.

On the ecclesiastical side, the religious leader Helaman undertakes an effort to repair the damage of war done to the faith communities of his fellow-believers. This would be no easy thing, to rebuild churches – including those that may have been used as scenes of atrocities by the invaders. In any war, but especially one targeting a religious group, there are always stories of people being forced into a house of worship which is then set on fire or collapsed. Like Mormon, I will not dwell on them here, but I will mention them as a matter for the religious leaders to consider. Does one rebuild such a building, or does one instead create a memorial? Or does one wipe the evidence out, so that future generations will not be troubled by the history? These are not easy questions.

In 62:47, the text notes that laws were made and judges were chosen. Seeing as how the judges were initially elected and then handed down their judgeship father to son, the only reason to choose new judges would be because something happened to the previous judges. Either they were killed by the attackers, they fled and failed to submit to their duties, or they voluntarily collaborated with the attackers and became tainted in the eyes of the rest of the government. But even if they fled or collaborated, they still knew the law and still likely came from aristocratic families, so they would have some claim on returning to their positions. The worst would be punished, the rest forgiven.

That kind of forgiveness would be part of an overall fatigue regarding the war. The people want it all to just end. After World War Two, such men of position were easily integrated into the postwar governments and a myth of national unity during the war developed to cloak their collaborations and crimes. Ironically, those who resisted the invaders found themselves more likely to be arrested and imprisoned after the war than those who collaborated – could that be something also happening among the Nephites?

Considering that there had been many murders and bloodsheds, consider the case of a group of Nephites that heads to the wilderness, rather than remain in a city under Lamanite rule. Such a group would survive not on sedentary farming, but on mobile banditry. They would have to learn, early on, that they cannot afford the luxury of prisoners and were compelled to strike at collaborationists and their families to destabilize the occupying authority enough to permit their survival in the bush. They justify their acts in the name of resistance and carry on with them. When the war ends, how can they be properly reintegrated into urban society? How do the victims of their attacks feel about that? What if an absent/collaborationist judge is restored to authority, do the bandits/freedom fighters decide that the war isn’t over until they’ve killed off the collaborators that the government is too ineffectual to punish on its own? And now we have another group of potential dissenters in a postwar world.

The rest of Alma 62 speaks to the urge to see everyone coming together after the conflict. Mormon speaks at length of the Nephites collectively as a more righteous people and perhaps that did happen. But I don’t think that it was universal, especially with details that come out in the last chapter of Alma, Alma 63.

Alma 63 starts in the 36th year of the judges, so the Nephites have been rebuilding and recovering for five years. The shock of the conflict would largely have worn off and people are likely beginning to think about building new instead of repairing past damage.

In Alma 63:4, Mormon describes “a large company of men… with their wives and their children” that leaves the Nephite lands and heads northward in the 37th year. They do not go South, to the Lamanites, but head out in a third way. While they do not see a future among the Lamanites as did earlier groups of Nephite dissenters, they also do not see a future with the Nephites. The number of men cited, 5400, is a fairly large group, not just a single family structure. For them to depart with their families, maybe a group of 20,000 people or so, notes that this movement is not a whimsical thing, but the result of some determined planning.

Such a move would not likely be because of a lack of available land. If anything, the depopulation of the war would open up more land and place an overall higher value on human labor. So, unless the land existed under some kind of feudal structure that kept large parts off-hands to the general peasantry, there is a different reason for their departure. Because Mormon is quick to point out economic disparities as wickedness and is not doing so here, that is another indication that this migration is not likely due to economic pressures.

So who goes north in this group, 6 years after the war ends? Are they people who simply want nothing more to do with a land and a faith that did not live up to their expectation? Are they former resisters or collaborators or king-men who can’t stand living in a land that has become something they now find foreign to them? Are they families whose women were raped and they no longer want to face a society that constantly shames them collectively?

As I ask those questions, we have room for all those possibilities as Mormon describes other migrations northward by sea routes. All through the 37th year, “there were many of the Nephites who… took their course northward.” The movements continued in the 38th year, with mentions of ships not returning and people who took provisions northward not returning indicating that the Nephites have lost contact with those migrants. While it’s possible disasters befell a number of migrant groups, overall it speaks to the idea of a people unable to abide postwar Nephite society, for whatever reasons. With a group of Nephites going over to the Lamanites in the 39th year and inciting a war against a single city, the postwar period is looking increasingly troubled.

While there were many Nephites who came together and rebuilt their lands and cities with a positive, forward-looking attitude, the migrations and outright dissension mentioned in Alma 63 point to a more complicated picture, one in which the Nephites are left questioning the system that they have and making choices to opt out of that system and to try their chances elsewhere. Given the length and severity of the conflict described in Alma, it’s quite likely that the war with the Lamanites opened up a wide range of potential inner conflicts between Nephite factions and allowed them to be expressed violently. The end of the war with the Lamanites did *not* end the Nephite inner conflicts. Those inner conflicts are the likely drivers behind the migrations and dissensions and come to a greater crisis point in the book of Helaman.

War in the Book of Alma

The discussion of the war in the Book of Alma towards its end covers several periods. The first is a Lamanite attack on the Nephites that is readily repulsed by the Nephites and the Lamanites do not follow up with additional action. The second is when Amalickiah stirs up the Lamanites to attack the Nephites: the Nephites remain in their strength and again, they repel the attack and enjoy several years of peace following that attack. The third is a second offensive led by Amalickiah that leads to a protracted conflict covering a roughly six-year period from the 25th year of the judges to the 31st.

Amalickiah is killed off quickly at the start of the conflict, but his brother Ammoron continues the war. In the war, the Lamanites gain a number of Nephite cities and territories early on and hold them for nearly the duration of the conflict. The Nephites liberate a few at a time, but do not regain all their lands until the last year of the war. On a military map with arrows and armies moving about, one can follow the Nephite campaigns as outlined in the narrative. But I wish to look at the civilian experience in those years of war and attempt to surmise what may have been going on that was mentioned in passing or left unsaid, but hinted at.

First, the experience of the Nephites conquered by the Lamanites: who suffered? Who collaborated? Who joined enthusiastically? The Nephite polity itself had recently fractured, with the Zoramites dissenting and joining with the Lamanites, constructing a revisited history in the process to cast themselves as descendants of a victim and, thus, made victims themselves. What of the Mulekites, who were glossed over soon after encountering them in the narrative? Not being descendants of Lehi’s group, they have a secondary position in Nephite society, which would lead to tension. Moreover, the Mulekites themselves included descendants of Jewish nobility. I surmise that the agitation among the Nephites to have a king would come from that quarter and/or other descendants of Nephi’s line. The point of this would be that these pro-king groups were ideologically allied with Amalickiah’s cause and would step forward to administer the cities taken by the Lamanites.

How can we assume that the cities held by the Lamanites were being run by dissenters? Because there’s no mention of a revolt in any of those cities. With other details of valiant efforts being included in the narrative, the silence about resistance indicates a likelihood of pro-king collaborationist governments. Joining with them would be people who surmised that resistance would be futile and would result in needless bloodshed. Carrying out the Lamanite will saved lives in their view, so they would cooperate with those in charge over them.

Famine is mentioned more than once in describing the years towards the end of the war, so it’s likely that disease came along with the famine. Such is natural in any war. The people of the conquered cities would likely be pressed most for supplying the armies in their midst, so famine would hit them particularly hard. Those outside of government would probably face seizure of their crops and those doing the governing would have slightly more to eat each day than the people they took from.

At the end of the war, the Lamanite armies are in general retreat. In their retreat, they send back to their lands “many women and children” – permanent captives, to serve as slaves or sacrifices. This would add to the depopulation of the region. Losses due to famine and disease were then compounded by forced population transfer. Top collaborators would likely also withdraw with the Lamanites, as they knew what would await them in the hands of the Nephites.

Were any people left behind in the cities the Lamanites drove captives out of? That is an interesting consideration. One could assume that those too old to move would be left behind. The question then would be if the Lamanites would leave them alive or kill them off on their way out. Knowing from Mormon’s comments later in his narrative that he did not want to dwell on gore could be a reason as to why the full impact of the Lamanite occupation is not described in much detail. Mormon is writing about people who stood as heroes in his view – he is writing to encourage his readers to persevere through hardships, not to describe a hellscape of war. Moroni gives us a peek into the hellscape, but just a peek. So while we don’t know the full impact of the war on the conquered population, enough is said of the Lamanite ferocity and cruelty to assume the worst.

Within the Nephite lands, the years of war absolutely take their toll. Towards the end, the loss of population that can work a harvest is evident in the growing famine in the land. Disease, of course, goes along with the malnutrition. Now, a question arises about how the food is collected and distributed among the Nephites during this time of protracted, constant war.

In other actions, the wars happened in short spaces of time, leaving the soldiers a chance to return to their lands for harvesting. In this war, that is not possible. A reduced population is working the home front, and the harvest necessarily suffers. From that limited harvest, a substantial amount has to be stripped away to service the soldiers at the front. What might be a noble sacrifice in earlier years of war likely becomes a seemingly never-ending burden in the later years. Again, famine is mentioned – a crop failure in a critical time such as this could leave entire regions depopulated through starvation.

And if the meagre food available is itself reduced to supply the soldiers? That is a breaking point for the humanity in this tale. With their entire population effectively under siege, a faction arises to overthrow the judges and to declare a kingship. That kingship then seeks to ally with the Lamanites in order to bring the war to an end. Those who are kings and aristocrats among the Nephites would enjoy a position of privilege among the Nephites in that they themselves would not necessarily have to pay the tribute to the Lamanites of their own wealth, but would exact that tribute from the people over which they ruled.

I can see the appeal of a tributary peace to a people wracked with a free hunger. The victims of the famine are not dying proudly on their feet instead of living on their knees: they’re dying of malnutrition, collapsed in the dust. Those not dying are facing reduced health as a result of improper nutrition, with life-long consequences. Faced with a choice of grim life as an alternative to a grimmer death, people at the end of their patience will choose food – and life. After all, what is the difference between paying tribute to the Lamanites or paying tribute to the Nephite armies except in the amount being diverted?

The answer there is that there are spiritual implications beyond just the matter of worldly survival. But that answer means nothing to those among the Nephites who themselves are not very religious. People could have lost their faith or never had it to begin with, except as an external, communal-social expression. They could have chosen to redefine their faith, so as not to be in conflict with what they see as the eventual victor, the Lamanite polity. For the faithless, there is no benefit in prolonging the conflict. Any way to end it is preferable to them, and the proposed tributary arrangement leaves the leaders in a rather nice position, overall.

While the kingship group does take power in the capitol, the outlying provinces remain true to the cause of the Nephite armies. They suffer, but they do not lose faith. This could be because, as rural rather than urban people, they have more access to foodstuffs in times of famine. The urban civilian population, after the demands of the farmers and the soldiers, comes last in the distribution of food. That could explain why the revolt described in the later years of the war is an urban activity, not a rural one. From the strength in the rural areas and with reinforcements from the front, the Nephites restore their judges and put to death any of those who supported the kingship who are not willing to serve the state.

That area is an uncomfortable one to read about. To the casual reader, it would seem that bad guys got what they had coming from good guys, nothing more. But in reading about the aftermath of the Second World War, we read of how vigorous purges of collaborators tended to spill over to include personal conflicts, oppression of minority populations, and death for those who may not have been involved in the collaboration, but who others denounced as merely being in sympathy with the collaborators, regardless of there being any proof of the matter.

As such, given the urgency of the moment and the desperation of the Nephite polity, I can’t assume that the justice meted out was anything other than a rough and brutal one, that likely took in a number of people innocent of any actual crime. The narrative reads, “whosoever would not take up arms in the defence of their country, but would fight against it, were put to death.” This does not necessarily mean that the accused were given a choice. In the next passage, we read, “And this it became expedient that this law should be strictly observed for the safety of their country; yea, and whosoever was found denying their freedom was speedily executed according to the law.” And in the passage after is the comment that the loyal Nephites “… inflicted death upon all those who were not true to the cause of freedom.”

How far-reaching were those executions? How brutal were the executions themselves? How many were carried out by people looking to settle old scores, unrelated to the recent revolt? We simply don’t know. But, given how other episodes of wartime mass reprisals went, one can reasonably assume that some percentage of the reprisals went too far.

Readers of the Book of Mormon have to resist the urge to put a halo around every major Nephite character. These are all men with flaws, with some of those flaws being illustrated more vividly than others. By extension, we the readers cannot assume that “Nephite” automatically equates to a righteous, stalwart superman. Even the narrative constantly points out, over and over, that the Nephites always have a substantial number of wicked people in their midst, and that those wicked are easily a majority of the population most of the time. If wicked men subvert a righteous cause for their own purposes, that is on them.

Ultimately, in and around Mormon’s retelling of a hero cycle involving Captain Moroni, Teancum, Helaman, Pahoran, and the Sons of Helaman, we have marginal details that hint at true horrors. Those details are there to remind us that Mormon’s heroes are not one-dimensional avatars. They are men with flaws and failings who nevertheless strive to do good as they understand it. They strive to avoid shedding blood and they strive to keep their rage in check – and there are a few episodes where we see Captain Moroni fall victim to his demons, along with Teancum’s mental exhaustion leading to his demise. The story is not that “anyone can do it” but that “everyone *must* do it” in order to survive spiritually. The violence, starvation, disease, mayhem, and misery are all real in this history even if they are not dwelt upon.

The Nephite polity comes very close to utter destruction in this narrative, and that destruction’s chief cause was from the dissension among the Nephites themselves, not from the external, Lamanite threat. Left on their own, the Lamanites seem to have settled into a state of arm’s-length coexistence with the Nephites. The major attacks upon the Nephites described in Alma are all a result of Nephite dissenters going over to the Lamanites to stir them up against the Nephites. The Lamanites themselves are not an ultimate evil the Nephites have to face in a fight for their survival. The ultimate evil the Nephites must face is within: the factions and social forces that drive towards inequality and social stratification are the greatest threat and eventual undoing of the Nephite polity.

What Are the Requirements?

As I read about collaborationists and resistance members of World War 2, and how the Allies relied more on fascist collaborationists than antifascist resistance members in forming postwar governments, I have to ask if entry into Heaven is justified as long as one isn’t as evil as the worst of humanity or if the requirements are much more stringent than we imagine and have much less to do with how other people view us and value us and more with how we view and value humanity in general, in particular those who are different from us. And yes, if those differences include deep and profound evils we still have to ask if we value those lives as much as those who are less evil.