What does it mean to go to war? My dictionary says war is “open armed conflict between countries.” What does that mean? We shoot at them; they shoot at us? When was the last time one of their shots hit us?
A few weeks ago, at a human rights conference, the writer Michael Ignatieff said America has passed from war to “virtual war”, which he defined as a war in which one side – our side – suffers few, if any casualties and inflicts few, if any, civilian casualties on the enemy state – “collateral damage” in military-speak.
Our war technology – cruise missiles, smart bombs, computer-guided targeting – make all this possible, but our politics and our ethics have not kept pace with our weaponry and it’s unclear how and when our technology should be used.
Gulf war events fit a recognizable scenario. An aggressor – Saddam – invaded a smaller nation – Kuwait – and imperiled and American national interest – the flow of oil. That doesn’t mean war was the right answer. It just means there was a recognizable scenario. In Kosovo, there was an aggressor – Milosevic – but no invasion and no narrowly defined American interest. The war in Kosovo was a human rights war. Or was it? Mr. Ignatieff pointed out that we didn’t bomb Belgrade to protect human rights, we said we bombed Belgrade to get Milosevic back to the bargaining table. But what were we bargaining over? The political rights of Kosovars? And at home, could the bombing campaign have been sustained as long as it was without human rights abuses against Kosovars by Serbs? Protection of human rights was not the ostensible reason for military action in Kosovo, but if you factor out human rights – no military action. A year later, the K-FOR presence in Kosovo has erected a de facto zone of Kosovar sovereignty, something no one – except perhaps the Kosovars – intended.
Now, NATO is left with an open-ended policing mission, similar to the 30-year presence of the UK in Northern Ireland, another ethnic conflict that continues to defy resolution.
Human rights drew us into the Balkans, but we stayed away from Rwanda, and many now think that was a mistake. Was East Timor a case for military intervention on behalf of human rights? How about the Basques, or the Kurds? I had many long, earnest conversations with other conference attendees – scholars, lawyers, human rights activists. Smart people, good people, eager to take on the hard questions. No one has any answers yet, or even a concrete list of questions.
One trend, however, seems to be emerging. On one hand, the U.S. government seems more and more willing to insert itself, even to the point of military force, into human rights situations where the U.S. has no outstanding national interest, like the Balkans. On the other hand, the U.S. government pointedly refrains from addressing the issue of human rights in countries where we do have an outstanding national interest. I’m thinking of China, Burma, Nigeria, 25 years of Indonesian oppression in East Timor.
Schizophrenia is a mental disorder marked by disconnection between thoughts and feelings, words and deeds. Diplomatic schizophrenia might be a clinical term for the current state of our foreign affairs.
As I said, it will be a while before our political philosophy catches up with our war technology. Problems like Rwanda and Yugoslavia will continue to vex, but one thing should be clear: when an ally or trading partner is violating human rights, our diplomatic action should be consistent with the truths Thomas Jefferson found to be self-evident.
Diplomatic Schizophrenia
What does it mean to go to war? My dictionary says war is “open armed conflict between countries.” What does that mean? We shoot at them; they shoot at us? When was the last time one of their shots hit us?
A few weeks ago, at a human rights conference, the writer Michael Ignatieff said America has passed from war to “virtual war”, which he defined as a war in which one side – our side – suffers few, if any casualties and inflicts few, if any, civilian casualties on the enemy state – “collateral damage” in military-speak.
Our war technology – cruise missiles, smart bombs, computer-guided targeting – make all this possible, but our politics and our ethics have not kept pace with our weaponry and it’s unclear how and when our technology should be used.
Gulf war events fit a recognizable scenario. An aggressor – Saddam – invaded a smaller nation – Kuwait – and imperiled and American national interest – the flow of oil. That doesn’t mean war was the right answer. It just means there was a recognizable scenario. In Kosovo, there was an aggressor – Milosevic – but no invasion and no narrowly defined American interest. The war in Kosovo was a human rights war. Or was it? Mr. Ignatieff pointed out that we didn’t bomb Belgrade to protect human rights, we said we bombed Belgrade to get Milosevic back to the bargaining table. But what were we bargaining over? The political rights of Kosovars? And at home, could the bombing campaign have been sustained as long as it was without human rights abuses against Kosovars by Serbs? Protection of human rights was not the ostensible reason for military action in Kosovo, but if you factor out human rights – no military action. A year later, the K-FOR presence in Kosovo has erected a de facto zone of Kosovar sovereignty, something no one – except perhaps the Kosovars – intended.
Now, NATO is left with an open-ended policing mission, similar to the 30-year presence of the UK in Northern Ireland, another ethnic conflict that continues to defy resolution.
Human rights drew us into the Balkans, but we stayed away from Rwanda, and many now think that was a mistake. Was East Timor a case for military intervention on behalf of human rights? How about the Basques, or the Kurds? I had many long, earnest conversations with other conference attendees – scholars, lawyers, human rights activists. Smart people, good people, eager to take on the hard questions. No one has any answers yet, or even a concrete list of questions.
One trend, however, seems to be emerging. On one hand, the U.S. government seems more and more willing to insert itself, even to the point of military force, into human rights situations where the U.S. has no outstanding national interest, like the Balkans. On the other hand, the U.S. government pointedly refrains from addressing the issue of human rights in countries where we do have an outstanding national interest. I’m thinking of China, Burma, Nigeria, 25 years of Indonesian oppression in East Timor.
Schizophrenia is a mental disorder marked by disconnection between thoughts and feelings, words and deeds. Diplomatic schizophrenia might be a clinical term for the current state of our foreign affairs.
As I said, it will be a while before our political philosophy catches up with our war technology. Problems like Rwanda and Yugoslavia will continue to vex, but one thing should be clear: when an ally or trading partner is violating human rights, our diplomatic action should be consistent with the truths Thomas Jefferson found to be self-evident.