I've been reading a fascinating book by French philosopher Bernard-Henri Levy, who pretty much parachuted into five of today's worst warzones: Sri Lanka, South Sudan, Burundi, Angola, and Colombia (War, Evil, and the End of History). What distinguishes these wars is that, unlike our grand, world-shaping battles, they have no meaning. No battle for the soul of Islam, no clash of civilizations, no confrontation of ideologies. Rather, children are pressed into military service, and innocent people live aware that no one cares whether they live or die, nor will anyone know their fate. How will a massacre of a rural African village affect me? How will the success or failure of a rebel militia affect the course of world history? The global implications of battles involving the West and radical Islam are clear, or if not clear, at least certain. The forgotten wars, however, have no implications.
Sri Lanka has been in the news recently, because violence has re-erupted between the Tamils and the Sindhalese. I read an article about some Catholic priests who have been rushing around their village trying to protect civilians of all faiths (Christians are a small minority; the ethnic conflict is between Hindus and Buddhists, with neutral Christians and, believe it or not, Muslims caught in the crossfire of terrorism). A priest called out to the world, "We are heading towards an isolated, unknown and silent death. Are we going to be a people forgotten? Not cared for? Is the World going to keep silent now and count on our bones from mass graves to sit on judgment? How will the international community especially the European Union, Co-Chairs, and Peace envoys of Norway and Japan be indifferent when innocent, unarmed, people are systematically decimated." Apparently, one priest, who witnessed the massacre of 15 people he was sheltering in his Church, has recently disappeared.
As a catechetical minister in the states, this story struck me inasmuch as it contrasts with the ease of my ministry. I spend my time planning discussions on social justice, catechizing new Christians, or discussing Scripture with high school students at Starbucks. Surely these activities fulfill some needs of the Church where I am placed. But in Sri Lanka, ministers are doing all they can just to preserve life in an inescapable hell. It's tremendously difficult for me to imagine a genuinely life-or-death ministerial situation. I try to instill in all to whom I minister the conviction that they are created in the image of God, that their lives and choices have meaning and implications. How could I do that when faced with a society that utterly disregards human life, or a world that ignores the deaths of so many? How could I find God and show him to my parish when my people were living as a people damned--unnamed, forgotten, and of no consequence any longer?
While I can think of no practical responses I can initiate (any suggestions?), I do recall Paul's admonishment: "God has so constructed the body as to give greater honor to a part that is without honor, so that there may be no division in the body, but that the parts may have the same concern for one another. If one part suffers, all the parts suffer with it; if one part is honored, all the parts share its joy" (1 Corinthians 12:24-26). Events in the Sri Lankan Church are just significant as events in the American Church, where we concern ourselves with things of greater (practical) consequence, things that actually have effects; somehow I wonder if what happens in forgotten regions, where our voice is of no practical significance, is in fact of greater consequence, for our words and actions in those regions interrupt, however quietly, the darkness of hell. (I wonder: How is the work of Christians in those forgotten parts of the world perceived?) Who are we to say that pivotal events in our history are also pivotal eschatological, when perhaps the suffering of those abandoned to violence, of those remembered only by a God who seems not to care, is more eschatologically definitive. That is, our response to the forgotten might more deeply define our world and our humanity than does the outcome of the great wars going on today. I can't do much for the forgotten, but a first step is to practice greater solidarity, at least in prayer, with all "the damned," all those meaningless victims of meaningless violence, who cannot even console themselves that their annihilation--whether by physical death or dehumanization or utter loss of agency--is in service of some greater cause. I can at least listen to the voiceless, and begin to give them a voice....
More on Responses to Terrorism
open book: This is what bothers people
Hey, for those interested in more on the topic below, including a lot of voices who disagree with me, check out this post by Amy. You can also get a bonus post from me by scrolling down to my comment on her site.
Hey, for those interested in more on the topic below, including a lot of voices who disagree with me, check out this post by Amy. You can also get a bonus post from me by scrolling down to my comment on her site.
Unjust Suffering and Just War
For those who are more loyal to this blog than I have been over the past three months (Dad), here's a new post after a busy summer of classes.
One of my most interesting classes this summer was on human suffering. We read a variety of theological texts, and surprisingly, not many dealt with questions that occupy us today. Even our professor, in designing the course, expected to consider the classic Humean question, "How can a benevolent God create a world in which evil exists?" Turning to texts in the Christian tradition, we discovered that a more pressing question for much of our history was "Why should Christians suffer more than everyone else?" and "What is Christian suffering?" Today, the question of theodicy weighs heavily on our shoulders today; no less urgent, however, are those ancient questions forgotten in our historic and religious amnesia: Why do the just suffer? How do we react to suffering?
The surprising answer that many authors proposed is that Christians should expect to suffer; in fact, if we're not suffering, we must ask ourselves if our faith is genuine and active. Christians, and all people who live justly, inevitably suffer in this world for two reasons. First, we are required to give up what looks like success to the worldly in pursuit of what is truly good. For example, a pregnant, unmarried teenager who opts to carry her child to term instead of aborting will likely have to abort her own hopes and dreams of success out of love for her child. Temptations to seek what is most advantageous to us crouch at the door, and in choosing the good, we lose our life; but only in dying out of love are we truly born to eternal life and happiness.
Second, we can be persecuted for choosing the good. For example, the woman who chooses to bear her child might be scolded by her boyfriend and parents and be ostracized by her friends. Partly these influences want what is advantageous for the girl they love, but their love is infected with anger and resentment toward one who would challenge them with a more perfect love. It's embarassing for human beings to see someone give her life completely for another, when human love is generally conditional. If you're successful, or if it's convenient, I will love you; there's always a limit to how much of myself I will share. Thus when we see Jesus's love revealed in his abasement and presence among the poor and accused, we initially seek his annihilation, or at least flee from him, afraid that his perfect love will expose our half-hearted charity.
So what does all of this have to do with just war? In a conversation at a wedding last weekend, a friend and I reflected on the crises in the Middle East. Given Hezbollah's clearly unjust tactics, like their use of civilians as shields, and their ambiguous juridical status, how is a modern nation to justly defend itself? In what ways is it permissible for a nation to defend itself against unjust tactics?
Several years ago, at the dawn of the Iraq war, I argued in a talk that, as a practical tool, just war doctrine must keep apace with developments in warfare; changing circumstances must affect our action, which is always action in context. For example, modern military capabilities might justify a preemptive strike against an imminent threat; but modern means of diplomacy, which must be exhausted before military action becomes licit, militates in the opposite direction and suggests that like capital punishment, war might become obsolete in modernity. You can read more at an article at PBS.com (actually, the article missed my thesis entirely, but I was still excited to be quoted at PBS).
My conversation last weekend led me to a further consideration. How effective should we demand just war to be? I realized talking points in defense of, say, Israel's action in Lebanon or America's action in Iraq, included a premise such as: "The only way for Israel to defend itself is to...." For example, the only way for Israel to defend itself is to accept (regrettably) collateral damage (high civilian casualties), because Hezbollah is using noncombatants as shields. Israel must defend itself, therefore it is just to incur high civilian casualties in modern warfare. Furthermore, inaction might lead to even higher civilian deaths from terrorism. (In response to this last point, we are obliged to protect civilians when possible, but we are not directly responsible for civilian deaths accomplished by other parties, as we are responsible for deaths caused by our own action. The question is what means of defense are just.)
The common argument outlined above assumes that justice and injustice are on equal footing. Justice should always be effective against injustice. Therefore, the only effective means of defense is by definition just. But where in life are justice and injustice on equal footing? If justice is always so successful, why is injustice so tempting? It is quite easy to cheat one's way through many difficulties, whether copying someone else's homework, practicing insider trading, or even murdering those who obstruct our prosperity. Injustice actually appears to be more advantageous than justice, because no means are barred. Justice limits our possibilities, but it ensures our integrity, even if it leads us to suffer. While we must always callibrate just war theory to our changing world, it is dangerous to assume that justice will always win. Rather, justice often requires great sacrifices. Once we realize that justice requires limits, our response to unjust tactics, such as using civilians as human shields, becomes clearer. A nation must defend itself, but it must do so justly. When we must choose to limit our means of defense to avoid collateral damage or to make ourselves more vulnerable, we may have to choose the latter.
Thus even today we may be martyred for the sake of justice. This fundamental aspect of Christian life and tradition appears to be far from our consciousness in our current intercivilizational crisis. But it is not just Christians for whom these reflections are relevant. Christ, our master, died a convicted felon, but so did Socrates. In fact, in Plato's "Republic," Socrates accepted Thrasymachus's challenge that the perfectly just man, to reveal that he loves the good for its own sake, must suffer and die in this world. Now is the time to recall that we pursue justice not for our success, but simpy for its own sake. The perfectly just will give up everything for justice.
(FYI, I don't really rise to this standard, but it's important to sketch the standard and examine
ourselves according to its logic. Our approach to the Good is a life-long journey that persists beyond our death. Nor do I expect most nations will be interested in holding themselves to a standard of justice; if leaders tried always to act justly, they'd probably be voted out of office quite quickly, although cynicism ought not blind us to those leaders who do seek justice.)
One of my most interesting classes this summer was on human suffering. We read a variety of theological texts, and surprisingly, not many dealt with questions that occupy us today. Even our professor, in designing the course, expected to consider the classic Humean question, "How can a benevolent God create a world in which evil exists?" Turning to texts in the Christian tradition, we discovered that a more pressing question for much of our history was "Why should Christians suffer more than everyone else?" and "What is Christian suffering?" Today, the question of theodicy weighs heavily on our shoulders today; no less urgent, however, are those ancient questions forgotten in our historic and religious amnesia: Why do the just suffer? How do we react to suffering?
The surprising answer that many authors proposed is that Christians should expect to suffer; in fact, if we're not suffering, we must ask ourselves if our faith is genuine and active. Christians, and all people who live justly, inevitably suffer in this world for two reasons. First, we are required to give up what looks like success to the worldly in pursuit of what is truly good. For example, a pregnant, unmarried teenager who opts to carry her child to term instead of aborting will likely have to abort her own hopes and dreams of success out of love for her child. Temptations to seek what is most advantageous to us crouch at the door, and in choosing the good, we lose our life; but only in dying out of love are we truly born to eternal life and happiness.
Second, we can be persecuted for choosing the good. For example, the woman who chooses to bear her child might be scolded by her boyfriend and parents and be ostracized by her friends. Partly these influences want what is advantageous for the girl they love, but their love is infected with anger and resentment toward one who would challenge them with a more perfect love. It's embarassing for human beings to see someone give her life completely for another, when human love is generally conditional. If you're successful, or if it's convenient, I will love you; there's always a limit to how much of myself I will share. Thus when we see Jesus's love revealed in his abasement and presence among the poor and accused, we initially seek his annihilation, or at least flee from him, afraid that his perfect love will expose our half-hearted charity.
So what does all of this have to do with just war? In a conversation at a wedding last weekend, a friend and I reflected on the crises in the Middle East. Given Hezbollah's clearly unjust tactics, like their use of civilians as shields, and their ambiguous juridical status, how is a modern nation to justly defend itself? In what ways is it permissible for a nation to defend itself against unjust tactics?
Several years ago, at the dawn of the Iraq war, I argued in a talk that, as a practical tool, just war doctrine must keep apace with developments in warfare; changing circumstances must affect our action, which is always action in context. For example, modern military capabilities might justify a preemptive strike against an imminent threat; but modern means of diplomacy, which must be exhausted before military action becomes licit, militates in the opposite direction and suggests that like capital punishment, war might become obsolete in modernity. You can read more at an article at PBS.com (actually, the article missed my thesis entirely, but I was still excited to be quoted at PBS).
My conversation last weekend led me to a further consideration. How effective should we demand just war to be? I realized talking points in defense of, say, Israel's action in Lebanon or America's action in Iraq, included a premise such as: "The only way for Israel to defend itself is to...." For example, the only way for Israel to defend itself is to accept (regrettably) collateral damage (high civilian casualties), because Hezbollah is using noncombatants as shields. Israel must defend itself, therefore it is just to incur high civilian casualties in modern warfare. Furthermore, inaction might lead to even higher civilian deaths from terrorism. (In response to this last point, we are obliged to protect civilians when possible, but we are not directly responsible for civilian deaths accomplished by other parties, as we are responsible for deaths caused by our own action. The question is what means of defense are just.)
The common argument outlined above assumes that justice and injustice are on equal footing. Justice should always be effective against injustice. Therefore, the only effective means of defense is by definition just. But where in life are justice and injustice on equal footing? If justice is always so successful, why is injustice so tempting? It is quite easy to cheat one's way through many difficulties, whether copying someone else's homework, practicing insider trading, or even murdering those who obstruct our prosperity. Injustice actually appears to be more advantageous than justice, because no means are barred. Justice limits our possibilities, but it ensures our integrity, even if it leads us to suffer. While we must always callibrate just war theory to our changing world, it is dangerous to assume that justice will always win. Rather, justice often requires great sacrifices. Once we realize that justice requires limits, our response to unjust tactics, such as using civilians as human shields, becomes clearer. A nation must defend itself, but it must do so justly. When we must choose to limit our means of defense to avoid collateral damage or to make ourselves more vulnerable, we may have to choose the latter.
Thus even today we may be martyred for the sake of justice. This fundamental aspect of Christian life and tradition appears to be far from our consciousness in our current intercivilizational crisis. But it is not just Christians for whom these reflections are relevant. Christ, our master, died a convicted felon, but so did Socrates. In fact, in Plato's "Republic," Socrates accepted Thrasymachus's challenge that the perfectly just man, to reveal that he loves the good for its own sake, must suffer and die in this world. Now is the time to recall that we pursue justice not for our success, but simpy for its own sake. The perfectly just will give up everything for justice.
(FYI, I don't really rise to this standard, but it's important to sketch the standard and examine
ourselves according to its logic. Our approach to the Good is a life-long journey that persists beyond our death. Nor do I expect most nations will be interested in holding themselves to a standard of justice; if leaders tried always to act justly, they'd probably be voted out of office quite quickly, although cynicism ought not blind us to those leaders who do seek justice.)
Immigration
With President Bush's recent speech on immigration, now is a good time to share my thoughts. I could go on and on (I just wrote a ten-page paper on immigration), but I'll try to be brief.
First, partisans on both sides of the immigration debate tend to fall into twin fallacies. Those hostile to immigrants claim that immigrants take jobs away from Americans, as though there is a fixed number of jobs to go around; an odd proposition in an period of economic growth and low unemployment.
In response, some, including our president on Monday night, claim that immigrants take jobs that Americans don't want. But are cities with low numbers of immigrants lacking in industries supposedly good (or poor) enough only for immigrants?
Opposed to these distortions, immigration has multiple interrelated impacts on our economy. Immediately, native unskilled workers do lose jobs or at least earn lower wages, consequent market laws; as supply of labor increases, wages drop. As wages drop, however, profit goes up, and as industries become more profitable, they attract increased investment. Demand thus belatedly catches up to supply as capital adjusts to an increased labor supply, and losses in wages are eventually offset. Consumers, of course, benefit from cheaper labor costs all along, but who really cares about them? Furthermore, stopping immigration will not save native wages, as long as we promote free trade and movement of capital, as we committed to in NAFTA. If immigrants do not come to America, companies will outsource more, lowering demand for labor at home; this has the same effect on wages as increased supply of labor.
The chief problem, as I see it, is how to help immigrants assimilate into our economy. They bring their own language, culture, and traditions, also leaving behind memories and families. Because immigrants are unfamiliar with our language and institutions, employers can easily exploit them; their ignorance, and sometime their undocumented status, bars them from protections American workers enjoy, such as unions and courts. We need to encourage immigrants to learn English, educate their children, and engage our own civil society, without forgetting the families and communities they left behind. Though this is a strain on our resources, it is necessary to fully integrate them into our economy, to which they contribute their labor. For their part, immigrants must make these priorities their own. Rewriting the Star Spangled Banner, for example, is unhelpful; statistically, those who remain in their comfort zone by socializing predominantly with other immigrants and not perfecting English skills take longer to assimilate--their wages take much longer to catch up with native wages than those of more ambitious immigrants.
Today's immigrants, like those of our past, have a lot to offer America. Rather than seeing them as a threat to our jobs, we need to welcome them into our communities and workplaces. I suspect that most immigrants are not greedily out to snatch jobs from deserving Americans. A dangerous journey across the Mexican-US border, leaving everything familiar in a trail of dust, betrays not a jealous, selfish whim, but desperation. People have a duty to support their families, and when conditions at home leave families in constant jeopardy, migration becomes a necessity. It is not surprising, therefore, that so many Hispanic immigrants have strong family values; communities promoting family values are a prophetic voice to our lonely, individualistic culture. From this perspective, people have not just a right, but a duty to migrate if they cannot obtain gainful employment to support their family at home. That so many individuals endure enormous social and personal costs to come to America illustrates their desperation and noble self-sacrifice, which our protectionist fears obscure.
Immigrants face a difficult task: they must remain faithful to their first home, while concurrently participating in a new social, political, and economic culture. As they work out their identity, our policies need to help them. This is not a purely altruistic proposal, because by bringing undocumented immigrants into our society more officially, we can regulate their activity in labor markets, monitor their assimilation, and collect taxes. At all levels, from government to friendship, ties between immigrants and natives need to be nurtured.
Finally, the resolve of immigrants is not just a nice human interest story. The volume of immigration from Mexico to America shows that economic conditions in some regions of Mexico are deplorable. People have a right to migrate if they must, but they should not have to. Employment should seek the worker, not vice versa, because immigration strains families and robs local communities of their human capital. The US, therefore, should partner with Mexico to increase investment in the poorest regions of Mexico. This would ease the immigration strain on both countries, especially for those who would have a real alternative to migration.
Lastly, I ought to add that it's nice to find an issue that can make friends out of a ecclectic group of interests, some sworn enemies. Here's something where leftists, big business, and Catholic bishops can all agree on. I just hope such an odd intersection of interests does not cause a traffic jam in Washington, in which good initiatives will run out of gas.
First, partisans on both sides of the immigration debate tend to fall into twin fallacies. Those hostile to immigrants claim that immigrants take jobs away from Americans, as though there is a fixed number of jobs to go around; an odd proposition in an period of economic growth and low unemployment.
In response, some, including our president on Monday night, claim that immigrants take jobs that Americans don't want. But are cities with low numbers of immigrants lacking in industries supposedly good (or poor) enough only for immigrants?
Opposed to these distortions, immigration has multiple interrelated impacts on our economy. Immediately, native unskilled workers do lose jobs or at least earn lower wages, consequent market laws; as supply of labor increases, wages drop. As wages drop, however, profit goes up, and as industries become more profitable, they attract increased investment. Demand thus belatedly catches up to supply as capital adjusts to an increased labor supply, and losses in wages are eventually offset. Consumers, of course, benefit from cheaper labor costs all along, but who really cares about them? Furthermore, stopping immigration will not save native wages, as long as we promote free trade and movement of capital, as we committed to in NAFTA. If immigrants do not come to America, companies will outsource more, lowering demand for labor at home; this has the same effect on wages as increased supply of labor.
The chief problem, as I see it, is how to help immigrants assimilate into our economy. They bring their own language, culture, and traditions, also leaving behind memories and families. Because immigrants are unfamiliar with our language and institutions, employers can easily exploit them; their ignorance, and sometime their undocumented status, bars them from protections American workers enjoy, such as unions and courts. We need to encourage immigrants to learn English, educate their children, and engage our own civil society, without forgetting the families and communities they left behind. Though this is a strain on our resources, it is necessary to fully integrate them into our economy, to which they contribute their labor. For their part, immigrants must make these priorities their own. Rewriting the Star Spangled Banner, for example, is unhelpful; statistically, those who remain in their comfort zone by socializing predominantly with other immigrants and not perfecting English skills take longer to assimilate--their wages take much longer to catch up with native wages than those of more ambitious immigrants.
Today's immigrants, like those of our past, have a lot to offer America. Rather than seeing them as a threat to our jobs, we need to welcome them into our communities and workplaces. I suspect that most immigrants are not greedily out to snatch jobs from deserving Americans. A dangerous journey across the Mexican-US border, leaving everything familiar in a trail of dust, betrays not a jealous, selfish whim, but desperation. People have a duty to support their families, and when conditions at home leave families in constant jeopardy, migration becomes a necessity. It is not surprising, therefore, that so many Hispanic immigrants have strong family values; communities promoting family values are a prophetic voice to our lonely, individualistic culture. From this perspective, people have not just a right, but a duty to migrate if they cannot obtain gainful employment to support their family at home. That so many individuals endure enormous social and personal costs to come to America illustrates their desperation and noble self-sacrifice, which our protectionist fears obscure.
Immigrants face a difficult task: they must remain faithful to their first home, while concurrently participating in a new social, political, and economic culture. As they work out their identity, our policies need to help them. This is not a purely altruistic proposal, because by bringing undocumented immigrants into our society more officially, we can regulate their activity in labor markets, monitor their assimilation, and collect taxes. At all levels, from government to friendship, ties between immigrants and natives need to be nurtured.
Finally, the resolve of immigrants is not just a nice human interest story. The volume of immigration from Mexico to America shows that economic conditions in some regions of Mexico are deplorable. People have a right to migrate if they must, but they should not have to. Employment should seek the worker, not vice versa, because immigration strains families and robs local communities of their human capital. The US, therefore, should partner with Mexico to increase investment in the poorest regions of Mexico. This would ease the immigration strain on both countries, especially for those who would have a real alternative to migration.
Lastly, I ought to add that it's nice to find an issue that can make friends out of a ecclectic group of interests, some sworn enemies. Here's something where leftists, big business, and Catholic bishops can all agree on. I just hope such an odd intersection of interests does not cause a traffic jam in Washington, in which good initiatives will run out of gas.
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The art of empathy in dramatic times
Over the past few years, my wife Christina and I have gotten involved in local theater (in the audience only - no auditions...yet!). I love ...
