SOME weeks ago I suggested that humanitarianism and humanism are religions apart. But both concern the philanthropic endeavours of humankind and humanitarianism does draw from humanist insights. Perhaps in retrospect, therefore, such a statement deserves a fuller explanation.

Humanitarianism is the principle of commitment to improve the human condition, particularly with regard to the exploited or the more marginalised members of society. As a commitment, therefore, it is often based on compassion, but a compassion in its most proactive sense - as an inspiration and spur to us to alleviate suffering. It is concerned with ensuring that the basic necessities for living are available to every human being, so that the possibility of a life enhancing existence is open to all. Humanitarianism, therefore, gives rise to concrete deeds of service to others.

Such gifts of service may either help to meet the basic needs of others, such as in the provision of food, clothing, shelter and medical care, or to foster their excellence, for example in support for art, culture, research parks museums, public buildings and education. It may refer to giving by private donors, voluntary communities or in thing in common, however they are based on the ancient religious tradition of charity.

Not so ancient, you might say, for one need look no farther for a modern or, indeed, topical heroic interpretation of charity than in essays written by Michael Collins as a young man. I read recently that he wrote "charity cannot be tested by the magnitude of its gifts but by the feelings that prompt them".

Was Michael Collins a humanist, then, in that a humanist will argue such feelings are prompted by our need to know, seek and realise our own real good? Humanism insists that human beings themselves have the sole responsibility for bettering and fulfilling their existence in this world. And during the past weeks and months, hasn't such a viewpoint taken on an added depth and meaning because of the untimely, tragic character of the many situations in which human beings, young and old, have found themselves?

So although based on different philosophical premises, religions apart, as it were, both uphold the concept that the inherent worth or value of a human person is something from which no one or nothing may detract. In this way humanitarianism and humanism become two sides of the one truth. Seen this way, it matters little which one of the two you choose to adopt and make your own. The ultimate reality of both is recognition of the right of each human being to live with dignity and to lobby for such recognition to be enshrined in civil, political or socio economic terms, in national constitutions or international covenants.

Our history books tell us that the first humanitarian laws so recognised at an international level were the Declaration of St Petersburg in 1868, the Hague Convention in 1899 (and 1907) and the Geneva Protocol and Convention in 1925 (and 1949). I'm sure most of us have heard of one of them. The latter, in particular, was noted for its attempts to apply humaneness even in times of war. It is interesting how all three, by drawing on humanitarian and humanist impulses across tradition, age and culture, established a universal principle focusing on the welfare of human beings, a principle to which all civilised societies now subscribe. And this is especially interesting when you further realise that this historical tradition was reinforced on September 4th 1993, when a Parliament of the World's Religions, comprising people of different religious backgrounds, convened in Chicago and passed a Declaration Towards a Global Ethic.

At the time, and for the first time, the world was unanimous in its affirmation of individual traditions and cultures matters too often obscured and belittled by dogmatic dispute, nationalist politics or terrorist strategies. The declaration endeavoured to make known what religions in north, south east and west ahead held in common and, in so doing, sought to emphasise the minimal ethic absolutely necessary for human survival.

I have heard it said that many parts of the declaration, when read out to close who had gathered to ratify it on September 4th, were greeted by spontaneous applause. It is my deep regret that I was not there to bear witness to that. I have read the declaration many times since then, however, and I am as enraptured, enthralled and refreshed by it as if I had attended its first reading.

Many, many other people have subscribed to its tenets since its first publication. Indeed, the voices of international figures of the world of politics, culture and religion are still to be heard in affirmation and support. Many of their statements and prayers may be found in the compilation, edited by Hans Kung, called Yes to a Global Ethic. One voice, to be heard ringing particularly clearly, is that of the President, Mrs Robinson.

In her contribution, President Robinson argues that the imbalance between power and powerlessness is at the heart of the search for a global ethic; the world is bearing witness to the fact that large material differences are socially divisive. Who now does not know that social inequality kills through illness, disease and crime? Who needs reminding that not only is a life in poverty more brutish, but also tends to be significantly shorter? Who cannot repeat by rote how increased social antagonism produces more violent crime, more alcohol related deaths, more accidents and more murders?

The Declaration Towards A Global Ethic exhorts us to commit ourselves to a culture of non violence, respect, justice and peace. Of course, such a commitment - to improve conditions in our societies and nations - may be slow in coming. We are, after all, human and, unlike any of the other living beings on this earth, we have freedom to choose. But as we survey the social decay and seeds of disarray that we have sown, do we not owe it to them, as much as to ourselves, to choose now for the better?

President Robinson's invocation, that we see and realise our connections to one another in terms of both humanity and obligation, is therefore particularly timely and relevant. Does not the invitation to all men and women in partnership to adopt and live in accordance with such an ethic, appeal to our higher sense of selves, our humanitarian instincts?

Does it not, as the humanist might say, also make good common sense?