A Question of Principle
This is something I've been thinking about a lot, and many of the comments posted here in recent weeks raise the issue, to varying extents. The issue is this: In formulating moral principles or rules, how much should one be concerned about the potential for the abuse of one's principles by others?
Let me take an example from TMcD's recent comment to this post. TMcD argues (this is an excerpt): One way to look at the moral reasoning here is this: some actions are morally required (fighting Hitler), others are morally prohibited (ethnic cleansing), and still others are in a gray area of the morally permissable. In those cases, we have to use our best practical reasoning concerning the ends at stake, the means we have availiable, and the opportunities for success, to make imperfect judgments. Clinton may not have been morally required to invade Rwanda, but it was a doable operation that could have saved many, many lives at relatively low cost to us. Clinton held back because he didn't want a fight with the DeLay caucus, not because he didn't think it worth doing. That's what I would call failed moral judgment in that complex middle category.
TMcD thinks that both Iraq and Rwanda fell into this middle, gray area, if I understand his position correctly, and were thus potentially "morally permissible" as humanitarian interventions. Indeed, he says so in a later comment: Instead, Iraq and Rwanda occupied a gray area of the "morally permissable" within which we must carefully evaluate and balance moral and practical considerations. The problems in those countries (tyranny, violence, ethnic oppressions, etc.) made them legitimate candidates for outside intervention, unlike, say, the US seizing Toronto to keep baseball "All-American," a morally trivial reason, hence forbidden. My judgment, which I've stated repeatedly, is that, within that moral middle ground, reasoning would have legitimized going into Rwanda but NOT Iraq.
I'm sure that many, many readers of this blog would concur with at least some of these sentiments.
But here is my problem, the issue I've been mulling over. It's all well and good to say that practical moral reasoning is necessary in a broad range of cases, but one has to remember that one is requiring policymakers to engage in such reasoning, and that policymakers often have their own agendas, separate from moral considerations (e.g., Clinton's concern with building/securing domestic support for intervention in Rwanda). Moreover, labeling a range of interventions as possibly/potentially "morally permissible" creates possible pretexts for interentions based on ulterior motives. (I think that in Just and Unjust Wars, M. Walzer comments that there has never been a purely humanitarian intervention. I might be off by one, but the point is still a good one: purely humanitarian interventions almost never, or never, occur.)
So, to get to where this post was going: How concerned should serious thinkers like TMcD and others be that their good-faith arguments about humanitarian interventions--which sanction the violation of international norms and also sanction the use of extreme forms of human-on-human violence, i.e., mass killing, if not mass murder--will be twisted and abused by policymakers to serve their own, non-humanitarian, ends?
My concern is whether the adoption or advocacy of this sort of case-by-case analysis approach to policy questions isn't, in the end, the problem. Might it not be better to adopt "bright-line" rules in this area to avoid the situation where a leader can manipulate your good-faith principles to acheive his/her own ends, which have little or nothing to do with your moral principles?
This is separate from the problem of good-faith disagreements about whether a particular intervention is justified, given a certain set of facts. TMcD, CL, and I might agree on a set of criteria for humanitarian interventions (I'm not sure we would, but we might) but disagree about particular cases, in good-faith, because human reason is a notoriously imprecise tool. Academics are used to that sort of thing; we do it all the time.
I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the danger that sanctioning the use of extreme, mechanized violence for humanitarian ends empowers those who would use extreme, mechanized violence against other States for non-humanitarian ends.
It seems to me, as a non-pacifist, that there used to be a "bright-line" we called defensive wars, or self-defense. One might even pre-empt an imminent attack under that theory--although the word "pre-empt" might be worn-out after the abuse it's taken in recent years. One might also join other states in a defensive war against an aggressor. All that is fine, under a set of bright-line rules that thinkers and international lawyers have used for hundreds of years. One might even force an aggressor to give up conquered territory and subject the aggressor state to sanctions to prevent further violations of international norms, as the international community did, with U.S. leadership, after the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait in the Gulf War.
But to say that State A can intervene in State B's affairs because State B's government doesn't respect the rights of its subjects is a different matter. It may be the case that State B has a horrendous human rights record. But that is, according to my lights, primarily the problem of State B's subjects; if State B has passed a certain threshold, they should, if possible, rise up and rebel. That may, of course, not be possible, which means that the lives of State B's subjects are pretty miserable.
But to say that if State B passes some threshold it then becomes "morally permissible" for State A to intervene in its affairs is something altogether different. It seems now that one must require the policymakers in State A to have "pure thoughts" only. If Walzer is right, and I suspect he is, that policymakers/political leaders rarely have purely pure (?) thoughts, then the "moral principle" of humanitarian interventions becomes a tool to advance non-humanitarian interests.
Btw, to make a long post even longer, I think that the same general concern applies to claims of expansive presidential power ("inherent power") under the Article II power as "commander-in-chief" of the military and naval forces of the United States. I think that we would all agree that there are cases in which presidents must act quickly and decisively to seize an advantage or to prevent certain contingencies, and that the Constitution almost certainly grants the president at least that much power. But this argument can be easily misused. That "emergency power" might swallow the rest of the powers of government.
It seems to me that, in formulating moral or legal principles, we should consider "bright-line" rules, which cabin the justifications that can be offered for certain actions, as superior to case-by-case "moral reasoning" balancing tests, given the danger of the potential abuse of legitimate moral principles by unprincipled decision-makers. Or, at least, that's how my thinking on this subject has been tending in recent months. So:
Better to say then, that the president has no power to break duly enacted laws than to say that the president may break duly enacted laws, but only in super-duper emergency circumstances. Better to say, no humanitarian interventions, period, than to create rules that would permit and justify interstate aggression for non-humanitarian reasons.
9 Comments:
On your argument, the US would have been seen, properly, as a "criminal" nation if it had stopped the genocide of 800K Tutsis in Rwanda. That should be refutation enough.
Your legal training has overwhelmed your political common sense here. In law, a "bright lines" doctrine makes some sense insofar as it contributes to SCt consistency and relieves the confusion of lower courts. That doesn't mean that those bright lines reflect a more "just" settlement, however, and there's a good argument to be made that they actually sacrifice justice in particular cases, either to the bureaucratic needs of coordinating a large judicial system or to the democratic concern that unelected judges should be restrained from exercising too much unchecked discretion. So the bright lines approach itself reflects a trade off that we judge experientially against a "balancing test" alternative in light of the unique circumstances of the judiciary.
Now, maybe you can make a stronger argument that "bright lines" reflect the clear-cut and unambiguous nature of moral/legal questions. I don't find that very persuasive, and it seems to ignore the reality of moral reasoning, which is always frought with complexity and nuance. So, Aristotle and Burke over Voltaire and Clarence Thomas. There is a danger that we come to think of law as a surgical knife applied with mathematical precision to solve all our moral difficulties. It is not, nor can it ever be. Law serves moral and political purposes that must always be taken into account when deciding how and where it should apply in strict vs. flexible ways. I'm curious where you stand, although I would generally expect your concurrence here, since you are a follower of the pragmatic liberalism advocated by Mill and Rorty in opposition to Kantian categorical imperatives.
To return to my main point, the greater danger with "bright lines" doctrine lies in applying it outside the realm of judicial or bureaucratic decision-making, where it has some plausible utility, to matters of war and peace. In those circumstances, the concrete practical determinations (as in my Rwanda example above) must overbalance a desire for strict legal consistency. Note that those decisions are made by democratically elected bodies: Congress and the President (OK, so W hadn't actually been "elected" when he started the Iraq War, but he could still have been voted out had voters been sufficiently angry in 2004). In a democratic society, the test of those decisions must be their public persuasiveness, not some abstract rule applied by legal theorists or meddlesome international bodies. Conservatives do not lack cause when they complain about the UN or the international criminal court becoming unduly burdensome to US foreign policy and coherent moral judgment.
Democratic and institutional context also explains why applying "bright lines" legal standards to Iraq and Rwanda is different from Congress applying them to executive conduct of those same wars. Congress has its legitimate constitutional and democratic claims to make over the US executive, and law is how it does that.
TenaciousMcD -- I'm sympathetic to the argument you're making here, about the difficulty of applying clear rules to fundamental matters, like war and peace. (It's rather like the usefulness of cost-benefit analysis--wonderfully precise but only on the narrowest technical questions).
But I think you're overlooking something important: the values of self-determination and democratic representation. With all our talk about whether or not we have good motives in invading Iraq--Are we liberators? Are we occupiers? Are we seeking permanent military bases in the Middle East? It's very easy to forget: this is not just about us and our motives.
It's about Iraqis, who did not ask for this. Even if a majority opposed Hussein prior to the war, they did not ask for a US invasion of their country. There was nothing like the petitions of the Jews in Europe to the US during the Holocaust. Nothing.
And we never see actual Iraqis in our political discourse. They have no presense. They're not interviewed; their views are not consulted. If you watched television you'd never even know who the major players in Iraq are, unless they're the subject of demonization or celebration by US political leaders. They're not represented, and they never speak for themselves.
They are not actors here. They are now our rebellious subjects, mere victims of our actions just as they were under Hussein.
To my mind, this questions most of the stories we tell about the Iraq war, both pro and anti. Why don't we care what Iraqis say? Why don't we even know who they are? Why doesn't it matter? Why are they such minor players in our assessment of what the Iraq adventure means? We're all too preoccupied with our national finger pointing and naval gazing.
This "little oversight" calls into question any country's ability to act on behalf of another people. US voters don't hold our leaders accountable for what they do to Iraqis; there's no "accountability moment" for this in our politics. Only Iraqis could provide this kind of accountablilty, but we don't even ask them what they think. We presume too much to act on their behalf, with our condescension, our blindness and cultural ignorance. If we are going to take it upon ourselves to act for them and intervene in their affairs, we ought to let them vote in our elections (and enjoy the other rights of US citizenship).
I'm not sure TMcD addresses the gravamen of my post, which is that nuanced approaches to moral questions that permit, in certain circumstances, the use of extreme forms of mechanized violence for humanitarian purposes lead, almost inexorably, to specious justifications for the use of extreme forms of mechanized violence for non-humanitarian purposes.
Pragmatically, it seems to me, one must be aware of the effects of the form of moral discourse one chooses to engage in. If one wants to justify the "moral" use of non-self-defensive violence, then one must be aware that that kind of moral reasoning can be manipulated by the powers that be to justify non-moral, immoral, actions. Or more precisely, that one's "moral reasoning" WILL be abused by the powers that be for immoral purposes. Thus, there is a COST to engaging in nuanced moral reasoning that must be factored into the equation.
This is especially true when one thinks in terms of "democratic" systems, in which mass publics must assess "moral" arguments offered in support of government-backed policies. If you really believe that democratic publics can engage in the kind of high-minded moral reasoning that TMcD advocates, I admire your faith but find myself unable to share it.
Bright-line rules make it much harder, but not impossible, for elites to lie about what they're actually up to. This is actually more important in democratic nations than in non-democratic nations, for a number of reasons I'm too tired to pursue.
Oh, on the "criminality" of humanitarian intervention in Rwanda. Every approach to this problem comes with a moral cost. The approach I advocate, provisionally, is that we pay the cost of non-intervention to avoid the certainty that morality-based arguments for human intervention will be abused. Is this a perfect solution? No.
But it seems to me that the other position has a pretty serious moral cost, as well. It means, first, that aggressive actions can take place under the guise of humanitarian interventions; all else being equal, justifying aggressive interstate violence is a bad thing. Second, I follow my "moral common sense" in believing, at a minimum, that we are more culpable for the harm that we actually do, versus the harm that we merely allow to happen. Now, maybe DK and others won't agree (?). But that's where I'm at. From a moral perspective, I would rather avoid committing, or justifying, immoral acts, even if that means standing by as others commit immoral acts.
A good exchange. Interestingly, Emery and Frances take on my defense of pragmatic case-by-case democratic decision-making from opposite poles: Emery contending that I'm too democratic, Frances that I'm not democratic enough. On one hand, since you can't trust the people to make good decisions on war and peace, you should constrain their options through the force of law or international norm. On the other hand, you can't have a "real" democratic decision unless you include the people in the country at issue (e.g., Iraqis). Either way, they argue, my version of democracy doesn't work b/c it's either too broad or too narrow, too hot or too cold. Like Aristotle and Goldilocks, however, I'll gladly defend the middle course.
It seems to me that there's a common concern behind both criticisms: American democracy didn't work to stop George Bush from invading Iraq, so we need some way to alter the status quo, by making it either less or more democratic. Put another way, how might things have been different to prevent the Iraq War from ever having happened?
To me, and I sometimes fall into this trap too, this is just liberal handwringing. The simple answer to the question above--what might have prevented Bush from invading Iraq and creating this mess?-- is "nothing." He wanted to do it, he had the power to do it, and he did it. Let's get over it and quit our second guessing of ourselves, when it was really them. Maybe someday Bush will write a memoir and go on Oprah and really tell us WHY in his heart of hearts he wanted this. I'm not holding my breath. But I can say that no international norm or media solicitation of the "Iraqi on the street" would have made a difference. Nothing the Democrats or the Europeans or even the Brits could have said or done would have made a difference. He had a largely sympathetic Congress and the still-fresh public memory of 9/11. We've already got a lot of international norms against this kind of thing, lots of people (and countries) expressed their dissent, and the Bushies didn't listen. As Madison knew, unchecked power does what unchecked power wants to do, and whatever you put on paper is likely to be just a "parchment barrier." This is even more true in international relations than in a nation's internal affairs. The time to stop the Iraq War was during the 2000 recount, but we couldn't have known that at the time, and even that probably wouldn't have mattered (after all, a GOP House would have decided the dispute over contested slates of FL electors).
Emery, your more specific point is that we need to impose strict norms on "humanitarian" interventions to prevent them from being used as an excuse for military adventurism. Here's the thing. Bush didn't argue that we should invade Iraq for humanitarian reasons, or even to promte democracy. That came later. He argued that we were going there for "self-defense." Saddam had WMD, he was conspiring with Osama, there were going to be mushroom clouds in US cities, and we needed to pay back those terrorists who attacked us on 9/11. So your suggestion has zero bearing on Iraq and cases like it. But it would provide a prohibitive barrier to doing the decent thing in places like Rwanda or Darfur. If we formally ban all interventions except for self-defense, you will find the strained justifications of self-defense proliferating to the moon. Meanwhile, there's a natural democratic check on humanitarian interventions: the people traditionally won't tolerate them if they have high costs (Somalia, anyone?).
Frances, I agree that we should seek to understand other countries better before we invade. But we can't exactly let them vote, can we? After all, the Iraqis under Saddam couldn't even cast a vote in Iraqi elections! How would we get the Rwandan Hutus and Tutsis together for a straw poll? Sometimes there's just no practical substitute for a democratic people and its considered judgment. I can say with some confidence that, generally, people don't like being butchered by the hundreds of thousands in acts of mass genocide. I don't need them to cast a ballot. In the Iraq case, we actually did hear from some Iraqis: Saddam apologists who we knew we couldn't believe, and exiles like Chalabi who we believed too much for our own good.
As I see it, there is just no alternative to trusting a democratic people to make the decisions they're going to make through the leaders they're going to pick. Is this perfect? No. In the near term, democracies can be just as prone to imperialist adventures and mass confusion as any other regime. But not for as long. Democracies are more likely than their alternatives to learn from their mistakes. Indeed, they are likely to overreact in the opposite direction (isolationism after WWI, excessive caution after Somalia, etc.), which is why we need to keep calm heads during moments of national turmoil.
Is this a time of national turmoil? I don't see it. Every talking head on the Sunday shows agrees on the basic question of war and peace in Iraq. The only dissent countenanced is Biden-style criticism about competence of execution. Incidentally, that's why it's so easy for you to dismiss my more fundamental concerns as "liberal handwringing" and why I get so frustrated with your preference for purely pragmatic arguments.
My views--"the war was bad judgment, immoral, and illegal--all three"-- are way outside the mainstream of the political discourse today, even though they're in the mainstream of American history, just war theory, and international law. We should not concede the field on the more principled arguments. This war was aggressive; it had no legal foundation. Don't you think international law is worth defending? Do you want to confer this kind of legitimacy on Russian leaders who might suddenly develop their own ideas about "humanitarian" interventions. If we claim for ourselves these rights--the power to attack other countries at our sole discretion with nothing other than humanitarian arguments as justification--and theorists like you give them legitimacy, on what basis could such claims be denied to leaders and democratic publics everywhere?
I wouldn't be so dismissive of wide and deep Iraqi opposition to the intervention we ostensibly pursued on their behalf (among other reasons). People will prefer an authoritarian government to one that cannot keep the peace. Think about how readily Americans will give up their civil liberties if only Daddy Bush will protect them from the "terrrists." Multiply that preference for strong government by several factors if your life actually is in danger on a daily basis, as it is for most people in Iraq today. And even if Iraqis wanted to be liberated, virtually nobody there trusted our motives enough to ask us to do it.
And such Iraqis were right: the US is not in the business of helping out other countries/peoples if there is nothing else at stake. We won't provide substantial help in Darfur, just as we didn't in Rwanda. This is just the way it is. Americans like their vanity flattered when they act in their own interests, but it's the interests (and blinkered misperceptions of them) that drive foreign policy.
By conceding every other principle (just war theory, international law) you're just writing a blank check for future George W.'s. On the up side, all you get is US freedom of action in one extremely rare circumstance: when the US (a) solely out of the goodness of its heart wants to intervene militarily to help out in some pressing cause where (b) blowing lots of stuff up actually can do some real good and yet (c) cannot get international support for doing so and must take otherwise illegal unilateral action. In other words, you're assuming that the imaginary Iraq that the Bushies invoke when they praise their "Dear Leader, the great liberator of peoples" might actually exist in some real world scenario.
Weighed in the balance, I think we're better off with some rules. Even if rules are broken, and-as you say, Bush would have broken any rules-they matter because they set the terms of legitimate debate.
Oh I forgot to respond to: "We couldn't let Iraqis vote, now could we." Perhaps not, but we didn't even care what they wanted. Anyone who lived through that period in American history knows that Iraqis (aside from the exiles) played no role in the debate about the war. We didn't even take an interest in their views or in the opinion of regional scholars or experts. We presumed to know what was in Iraqi interests, without knowing virtually anything about them. We were going to go in there and invent them a government, design their flag, and set up a free market system. Arrogance beyond belief.
Ah, DK! Welcome to the fray. And congrats on your semi-recent promotion! I hear you're now "the man" in Chi-town. Couldn't happen to a better guy.
Frances, reading your comments I almost forget that you and I actually AGREE on both the legitimacy of the Iraq War and the quality of the Bush presidency. What we're arguing about is reasons and precedents, rather than present realities. To return to Emery's legal analogies, it's a bit like we're writing angry concurrences in a SCt decision: we both agree to overturn a law, but I'd do it on the most narrow legal grounds, whereas you want a sweeping ruling that will make a dramatic statement, a "bright line" as it were. As I see it, such statements often create backlashes and rarely end up being as bright as they once appeared (Roe? Lemon?). There are always loopholes that create unexpected incentives (campaign finance law, for example?), and the laws of war will be no different. Every war will become "self-defense," just as Iraq supposedly was, or there will be some new rationale. I'd prefer it if we minimized the formal rules and allowed the real arguments to appear on the surface so that they could be judged as such. And, no, I don't trust the UN as final arbiter--especially on the Middle East.
For an outside perspective, I'd actually be curious to hear what some of Emery's more conservative law school friends would argue on this war and law debate. Stephanie usually makes rational arguments with a minimum of name-calling. So, how about it?
Ah, DK! Welcome to the fray. And congrats on your semi-recent promotion! I hear you're now "the man" in Chi-town. Couldn't happen to a better guy.
Frances, reading your comments I almost forget that you and I actually AGREE on both the legitimacy of the Iraq War and the quality of the Bush presidency. What we're arguing about is reasons and precedents, rather than present realities. To return to Emery's legal analogies, it's a bit like we're writing angry concurrences in a SCt decision: we both agree to overturn a law, but I'd do it on the most narrow legal grounds, whereas you want a sweeping ruling that will make a dramatic statement, a "bright line" as it were. As I see it, such statements often create backlashes and rarely end up being as bright as they once appeared (Roe? Lemon?). There are always loopholes that create unexpected incentives (campaign finance law, for example?), and the laws of war will be no different. Every war will become "self-defense," just as Iraq supposedly was, or there will be some new rationale. I'd prefer it if we minimized the formal rules and allowed the real arguments to appear on the surface so that they could be judged as such. And, no, I don't trust the UN as final arbiter--especially on the Middle East.
For an outside perspective, I'd actually be curious to hear what some of Emery's more conservative law school friends would argue on this war and law debate. Stephanie usually makes rational arguments with a minimum of name-calling. So, how about it?
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