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.)