Episcopal Office of Armed Services and Federal Ministries

Federal chaplains serve those in the military, Veterans Administration hospitals, and federal prisons, providing spiritual and day-to-day support to service men and women overseas and stateside, veterans requiring medical services, and the incarcerated. They bring spiritual healing and comfort to those with no other faith resources. If you are interested in federal military or prison chaplaincy, call the office of the Bishop Suffragan for Armed Services and Federal Ministries; the Deputy Endorser will explain the programs, the application process, and will stay involved with you each step of the way.

 

The Rt. Rev. James B. Magness To the House of Bishops Kanuga Conference Center Hendersonville, NC On March 12, 2013 Good afternoon. Jay Magness: Armed Services and Federal Ministries.

I want to use the next few minutes to update you on some things I am doing and in which my small staff and I are engaged. For the benefit of those of you who are new to the House, I was elected three years ago at the spring HOB meeting in Camp Allen, IAW Article II, Sec. 7. of The Constitution of TEC: "It shall be lawful for the House of Bishops to elect a... Bishop (Suffragan) who, under the direction of the Presiding Bishop, shall be in charge of the work of those chaplains in the Armed Forces of the United States, Veterans' Administration Medical Centers, and Federal Correctional Institutions who are ordained Ministers of this Church."

This is my episcopacy on federal lands in this and in foreign countries. Having been elected by the House, I make periodic reports to you on the ministry you have called me to do in support of my Priest/Chaplains who serve in the Department of Defense, the Department of Veterans Affairs and in the (Federal) Bureau of Prisons. In the interest of time, let me tell you a story. In the 1970s I served at one of my first parishes which was in this county of this diocese. The parish, St. Paul's, is about 15 miles north east of here. St. Paul's is surrounded by some beautiful commercial apple orchards. In the autumn each year thousands of tourists frequent the area to buy apples and see the fruit laden trees.

On one warm sunny September afternoon a man and his wife from Atlanta in their long black Lincoln were driving past one of the local orchards when they saw a very peculiar sight: a farmer standing beneath an apple tree with a pig upon his shoulders which pig was eating apples off the limbs of the tree. At first the man and his wife passed by, but upon doing a double-take had to return to check out this strange sight. They pulled up beside the man with pig, rolled down the driver's side window to inquire about what the man was doing. The quick and curt reply was, "The pig was hungry." The man from Atlanta, who fashioned himself as having great knowledge of how to do things in the most efficient way, said, "Wouldn't it take a lot less time if you just put the pig on the ground and shook the tree so the ripe apples could fall within snout's reach of your hungry pig." The farmer, without so much as a slight pause said, "Time don't mean nothing to a pig."

When I came into this episcopacy I reasoned that I had plenty of time to do what we needed to do to perform our highest priority task: recruiting priests and seminarians to serve as military, VA and Bureau of Prisons chaplains, but particularly military chaplains. I have since determined that time is not on our side. Recent events have demonstrated that we are in a dire need to increase our numbers of very capable and thoughtful clergy of this church to serve as chaplains within the branches of the armed forces. Why, you might ask, do we still need more clergy to serve as chaplains when we have shut down the war in Iraq and are winding down the war in Afghanistan.

Though I could cite many, there is a primary reason. Even though Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan is drawing to a close, my chaplains are serving in an environment that is increasingly dominated by severely conservative to fundamentalist clergy, who are on one hand bent on expressing all of what they see as their First Amendment liberties to impose their version of the Christian faith upon everyone with whom they come into contact and also who embrace a sense of imperialistic nationalism by means of which they are eager to bless and condone almost any expression of armed warfare in any situation. In contrast, our clergy offer a very important reasoned influence to the environment. That influence is increasingly important because in all of the military services, not only are chaplains expected to provide pastoral, liturgical, and sacramental care to service members and to members of their families, also chaplains also expected to provide advisement to command leaders. When more so than ever before our military units are being employed as agents of international stabilization and diplomatic power projection, it is very important to me, and I hope to you and the people you serve, that their senior command leaders have the best moral and spiritual advise that is available to them.

Last year for the first time we recruited more chaplains than we lost. Though it took us longer to change the loss trend, a trend that had been in place for the last 6 to 8 years, now we have the momentum to move forward, and I do not want to lose this momentum. This week we have talked about grief, pain and catastrophic personal loss. I can think of few environments where such loss is any greater. We need your best and most capable young priests. We need bright and young seminarians who can enter our student programs. While I am very thankful to all you who have supported this episcopacy, please continue to send us the excellent applicants. My second point is to let you know how much I appreciate your collaboration in receiving active duty military chaplains of other faith traditions through Title III, Canon 10 and enabling them to transition into the priesthood of this church. This is a crucial part of our recruiting effort. Currently we have 5 other-faith-tradition military chaplains in 5 different dioceses who are in some stage of transition into Holy Orders in The Episcopal Church.

I recognize how difficult this can be for you and your Commissions on Ministry. I can and will assist you through this process. We know how the military system works and what is crucial for the soon to be priests to function in their operational environments. Call me and I will help you. You do not need to do this in isolation. Finally, very recently the Presiding Bishop received an email through the TEC web-site from the rather disgruntled spouse of a National Guard officer. Katharine passed the email on to me so I could contact the woman.

To make a somewhat long story short, during her husband's second 14 month deployment to Southwest Asia she became very frustrated and hurt that she had become invisible to her parish priest as she struggled to be a working mom who was raising two small children on her own. After talking with her I got in touch with one of you, her priest's bishop, and we worked through the situation. What I found that what this young wife and mother wanted more than anything else was for someone to compassionately listen to her, both while her husband was away and after he had returned home; she did not need to be "FIXED," but to be heard. She wanted, as my former bishop Ted Gulick taught me, to carry her and her needs on my heart. In the end, this problem ended up being something we could work with and help.

My take away is that some of the most invisible sacrifices in these long and tragic wars are being made by Reserve and National Guard service members and members of their families. Barry Bisner, who was for many years a National Guard chaplain, undoubtably can give you many examples of such situations. Unlike their active-duty counterparts, hometown Guard and Reserve people don't have the luxuries of being near large military installations with many family support resources. Please encourage your clergy to identify the Reserve and Guard families in their congregations and to monitor them. I know that it is important to remember that for these folk the war will not be over until long after the last round is fired and the last service member comes home. Many have experienced some horrendous sights and sounds, and have done some unthinkable things. The afterlife of their pain will endure for months and for years.

Trust me, as a Vietnam veteran I know. In closing, more so than ever before I am fully aware that I can't do this without you. The work of Armed Services and Federal Ministries is a collaborative effort I do with your assistance and cooperation. Thank you for all you are doing to support the people you have asked me to serve.

The Rt. Rev. James B. Magness To the House of Bishops Kanuga Conference Center Hendersonville, NC On March 12, 2013 Good afternoon. Jay Magness: Armed Services and Federal Ministries. I want to use the next few minutes to update you on some things...

The House of Bishops Theology Committee report, "Some Observations on Just War," is well-meaning, but incomplete. It is really an attempt to reconcile core values with national security interests—different from the charge given to it by General Convention. The chosen means to do this was to critique older Just War principles. The 2006 General Convention had noted the dated quality of those principles hence the resolution (DO68) requesting "a study on new warfare situations." It is unsettling to compare that request with the results in the committee’s report.

We are headed for the high season of important sounding pronouncements with General Convention on the horizon and with it an assortment of "non-experts" will be assembling in Anaheim. Amidst the same kind of preparation as this House of Bishops group and through various committee hearings on diverse subjects, convention will dare to make policy statements on nearly everything. Most often, the discourse will be inconsequential and disappear, not harming anyone. This would all continue to be quaint in July if the times weren’t so terrifying.

It would wiser to convene an adjunct panel of experts to any deliberation, sort of a ready telephone helpline since election as a delegate is no guarantee of knowledge.

Here’s an example where it could have helped with the Just War document. One of our senior chaplains argued that the whole concept of Just War should be replaced and did graduate study on it. Another chaplain in a major paper specifically warned about proportionality and the safety of non-combatants. He wrote, "We increase the lethality of our weaponry and thereby the safety of our soldiers on the one hand; non-combatants are left to fend for themselves on the other."

The battle area has become more and more toxic yet the bishops’ report addressed the enormity of this development with a simplistic statement like, "More care with air strikes may require pilots to fly lower, exposing them to greater danger of being shot down." Constructing such thoughts without the expertise of experience speaks for itself.

Had chaplains and other the members of the military been asked they would have lamented the impoverishment of Just War principles with, "Give us something we can use to act responsibly in undeclared wars." Added to the level of untapped expert knowledge, the Episcopal Church was noteworthy in having chaplains in the moral aftermath at both the Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo prison sites.

The recent stir over released torture memos would ordinarily send the faithful in search of a church teaching but you won't find anything except a passing reference to "rape as a military tactic" in this report. Yet as we all know from a casual education by the media, torture runs the gamut from forced nudity, to prolonged stressed positions, to water-boarding. Yet there’s more. For example there’s an alarming connection between the proportionality of guided drone unmanned aircraft and the impersonality of meticulously documented instructions for torture. The report could have led us into the nuance that to be tortured is to be helpless against your will versus a drone aircraft controlled a continent away incinerating a non-combatant’s house is distinctly different; no one’s holding you down. The report could have posed the irony that if you’re watching your family burn around you that becomes a moot point.

The report does well in suggesting an end result process with a "pedagogy for Christian citizenship." We dodge the blunt need when a fancy phrase is used to sidestep a basic truth; we need a moral overhaul. Here, the committee seems caught in an a la carte style of subject commentary rather than using a unified field theory approach. Aren't other cultural values under attack, too, after towering levels of greed have threatened to submerge our society? Is it that hard to see a relationship among concepts of over dependence on technology and the promotion of self? Aren’t there many courses in this pedagogy?

The Just War document commends this education to the bishops. But in the words of the report, "there must be a cultivation of a common life within which believers display habits of gracious yet rigorous conversation." Giving the importance of this moment solely for bishops to ponder is a mistake. A stronger approach is to let persons build each other up in the Lord, tuned to perpetually updated knowledge, self reflection, compassion and sacrifice. Unlike the committee’s conclusion, we have a clearer view for our times: we’re not trying to cast out fear, just live with it and make it inconsequential.

The House of Bishops Theology Committee report, "Some Observations on Just War," is well-meaning, but incomplete. It is really an attempt to reconcile core values with national security interests—different from the charge given to it by General...
Tagged in: Just War

The roots of Just War thinking are to be found, not in scripture, but in the Stoic tradition of philosophy that can be traced back in its essentials to Aristotle. The highest priority was not (as it tends to be in modern thinking) the preservation of human life, or even innocent life, at all costs. Life was not regarded in the ancient world as universally precious, and in the Christian religion was in any case regarded as only a preparation for the life to come; therefore it preservation was of value mainly as an opportuinty for repentance and growth in sanctity. The evil of was was seen less in terms of its cost than of the licence it gave for the exercise of unruly passions and desires: 'love of violence, revengeful cruelty, fierce and implacable enmity, wild resistance and the lust for power and such like'. These passions exist, and war may be necessary to curb them and restore justice and order; but the means to be used should be those approved by reason and informed by virtue. Hence the familiar Just War principles governing the conditions under which war may be initiated (jus ad bellum) and waged (jus in bello). There is nothing distinctively Christian about these: they result from more common sense and rational inference than from religious revelation, and are assented to by members of other religions and by secular thinkers. But, in its Christian formulation, Just War thinking as we have inherited it from Augustine and Aquinas represents a delicate balance between divine revelation and natural law. Aquinas in particular sees the natural law as both authoritative in its own right, because it is a system of ethical rules which anyone can understand and accept simply on account of being endowed with human 'nature'; and yet as totally dependent upon God, since God makes all the kinds of creatures there are, including human kind which has this nature and is thus gifted with a capacity for moral responsibility. For Aquinas it is impossible to believe in natural law without, at least implicitly, believing in God as its author.

Now from our twentieth-century vantage-point we can see how delicately poised was the mediaeval bridge on which Aquinas stood, linking revelation and reason, divine command and natural law. On one hand, belief in human nature as God's creation was not just a philosophical or theological postulate: it was embedded as a founding element of the political and economic culuture of mediaeval Europe. Wars between Christian princes, for example, were commonly regarded as subject to regulation by divinely authorized naturallaws. These provided the means for distinguishing (say) lawful from unlawful authority, or just from unjust causes, for going to war. On the other hand crusades against the infidel could not be regulated by such laws, for they were holy wars, waged at divine command. Consequently the natural rights to which Christian enemies were entitled were not to be conceded to infidel enemies, who were fighting against God's explicit command and who did not belong to Christendom.2  Thus (to take one notorious case) it was forbidden to Christina soldiers, by the second Lateran Council in 1139, to use the cross bow against Christian enemies.3  But its use against the infidel was not forbidden by this decree.

We recognize the fragility of the Thomist bridge when we look further ahead, to the sixteenth century. Whereas Aquinas' Just War theory 'hardly envisages cultures in which Christ has not explicitly been preached at all',4  Franciscus Vitoria (1480-1546) had to confront this problem head-on. He was the first significant Christian theologian faced with having to apply Just War criteria to wars waged by Christians against people who had never had any contact with Christianity. The Spanish wars against the American 'Indians' were not 'crusades' commanded by God; and, unlike the crusaders, the conquistadores were certainly not motiviated by obedience to the demands of confessors that they should undertake penance. Here then was a new puzzle: how to apply the natural criteria for justice in war when there was no shared Christian culture available to both sides. The puzzle was soluble in the end only by cutting the link between natural law and belief in a divinely instituted common Christian culture. Despite Vitoria's valiant efforts to keep alive the Thomist marriage of divinely revealed law with nature, in the end divorce became inevitable. In the work of Grotius and his successors,5  Just War theory was secularized precisely in order to deal with situations which involved people quite unfamiliar with Christianity. Natural law now aspired to be autonomous and to provide the basis for an international law that would hold equally for peoples of all races and cultures.The 'body' (sõma) of Thomist natural law, dependent as it was on God as its alpha and omega, had become the mere 'flesh' (sarx) of a legal order operating on its own. Thenceforward the problem would always be how to prevent this flesh from becoming mere grass.6

Now of course, the system of autonomous international law which we have inherited from this divorce is of inestimable practical value. In it lies today's hope for a more peaceful, humane world in which conflict can be conducted without violence. Our hope is for an international law which breaches the cultural walls which divided Christendom from the pagan or infidel world. Today, legally enforceable rights are claimed to belong to everybody, irrespective of religion, race, gender or whatever, simply because we are all human.

Yet, as we know, the bridge between cultures on which modern international law stands is at least as fragile as that on which Aquinas stood. An example will illustrate this point. It is drawn from the work of the International Court of Justice.7  On 8 July 1996 this Court gave its advisory opinion on the legality (or otherwise) of the use or threat of use of nuclear weapons. It emerged that international law, thus interpreted by the only authoritative judicial body in the world, cannot quite make up its mind on the crucial issue of nuclear use and disarmament. For the product of its deliberations taken as a whole is ambivalent—as the international judges from different countries and cultures have shown by their divergent interpretations of its meaning.8   This is perhaps not surprising when we reflect that although the judges of the International Court are supposed to operate simply as legal authorities, without reference to their own cultural backgrounds, on the nuclear issue those from nuclear-weapons states took a markeldy less anti-nuclear stance than many from non-nuclear states. No judge took a line incompatible with the policy of his or her own government. International law, on its own without reference to any objective standard such as was afforded by a divinely authorized 'natural law', was unable to provide an independent criterion that could override that partial perceptions of individual member states. The only conceivable superior authority to which appeal could be made is the United Nations itself; and it is open to question whether this has, or even ought to have, the standing required to act as ultimate arbiter in the manner of the mediaeval church.

To the pacifist, in any case (and indeed to many others), reflection on the Just War tradition may seem something of an academic exercise. When has reflection on Just War principles ever prevented war from breaking out? What restraint have these principles ever exercised on the belligerents once the fighting gets desperate? Are they anything more than a means by which Christians have been able to salve their consciences when taking part in war, a compromise between a theoretically non-vioent Christianity and the practical imperatives imposed by civic loyalities? And are they still in any sense adequate to the task of giving guidance to politicians and strategists when any use of force amy rapidly escalate to unprecedented levels and when violent conflict is liable to break out, not between nation states with accountable governments, but between ethnic and even religious groups within the territory of a single country?

The pessimism implicit in these questions is understandable. But ultimately it is the same pessimism which may greet any attempt to lift or alleviate the curse of Cain, including the pacifist project itself. War, it can be argued, is endemic in the human race. Nations will fight each other until one or other is victorious, until both are exhausted, or unless a more powerful force is interposed between them. Apart from the undoubted success (in this respect) of the European Union, the only policy which can be shown historically to have prevented war has nothing to do with international institutions or peace movements but is the formation of alliances to maintain a balance of power. The evident folly of initiating war with massively destructive modern weapons cannot be relied upon to deter the ambitions of a ruthless aggressor. Once the battle is engaged, no one can predict what atrocities the loser may commit to avoid total defeat. Even a religion such as Christianity, with its clear imperative to renounce violence, has again and again been an accomplice to warlike intentions. Against such powerful instincts and well-established military cultures, now made still more lethal by modern armaments, Just War theorizing and pacifist refusal to engage are alike 'academic'. Only force, or the threat of it, is capable of saving the world from unprecedented catastrophe.

Our argument has been that this pessimism is no longer justified. The last half-century, with its new international institutions, with a new consensus on the inviolability of human rights, with an effective diminution of the freedom of sovereign states to initiate aggression and with a common agenda to conserve an increasingly fragile environment, has arguably given the world at least promise of an international order that could greatly reduce the risk of major armed conflict. The questions before us now is not so much whether the Just War tradition has ever prevented wars in the past and restrained the intentions of belligerents as whether it has a part to play in the contemporary striving of humanity to reduce the risks of war taking place and whether it can still provide moral and theological justification for the Christian non-pacifist position.

In a sense this amounts to casting it in a new role. Historically, it is unlikely that Just War theorists ever imagined that their reasoning would actually prevent wars taking place. In antiquity, in the Middle Ages, and indeed up to the First World War, the likelihood of war was taken for granted. Despite all the grievous suffering it might cause, war was assumed to be an option rulers might follow when other means of protecting their interests or gaining their objectives had failed; moreover its successful prosecution could lead to fame and honour beyond anything promised by the arts of peace. In these circumstances the theorists had little chance of influencing the course of events: they aspired rather to guide the conscience of Christian rulers contemplating war and of individual Christians who had to decide whether to take part in it. 'Thou shalt not kill' was a divine and universal prohibition; but the apparent necessity of war meant that there must be exemptions. Some classes of people, such as the clergy, could never be exempted.9  But in time of war a Christian man could legitimately take up arms with the intention of killing an enemy so long as the Just War conditions were fulfilled — so long, that is, as the war was engaged in for the right reasons and waged in accordance with 'just' principles.

It is therefore unfair to criticize the Just War tradition for not having succeeded in preventing wars. Nor should it surprise us that the tradition has made only a minor contribution to the modern 'laws of war'. Though it does of course contain the principle of 'discrimination' (forbidding the deliberate killing of non-combatants), its emphasis and approach are somewhat different from that of recent Christian and humanitarian thinking. It is concerned, not with individual responsibility, but with strategic aims and tactical options. As its name implies, the criterion it invokes is 'justice'. If an aggressor has disturbed international order and committed a wrong that must be put right, the question is, in what circumstances can one be sure that the righting of the wrong will do more good than harm, and what tactical rules must be observed in order that the war may remain 'just' and not descend to a level of barbarism such that it should never have been engaged upon in the first place? These are questions for rulers and commanders, not subordinate officers and individual servicemen. Matters such as the safety of non-combatants or the treatment of prisoners receive little attention in a tradition derived, not from any humanitarian principles, but from a concept of justice that goes back to Stoic philosophy and beyond. Recent Christian thinking, by contrast, tends to start from a principle found in scripture as well as in natural law, namely the absolute inviolability of the innocent, which is necessarily a matter not just for the commander but for the individual. The Nuremberg trials in 1947 placed responsibility firmly on the individual to respect the difference between the legitimate (or 'just') killing of a combatant enemy and the killing (which is murder) of an unarmed civilian; and modern military manuals reflect the same principle. Moreover, the 'proportionality' which is such an important element in the Just War tradition, if defined as the avoidance of excessive casualties and destruction, is now seen to depend on the professionalism of servicemen as much as on the tactical decisions of generals. This shift of attention from politicians and generals to subordinate officers and individuals, and the apparent priority of the principle of the protection of the innocent at all costs over the abstract concept of justice, might make us think that the Just War tradition has lost some of its purchase on the realities of war and on the Christian conscience today.

Yet it is arguable that these considerations were always implicit in Just War thinking, even if they have become explicit in modern times. Certainly recent events have shown the tradition to be still very much alive. Not only has it played a significant part in the debate on the ethics of nuclear deterrence; its principles were widely invoked in the discussion leading up to the Gulf War in 1991. Admittedly there were doubtless other less academic factors which caused the opening of hostilities, ranging from concern for supplies of oil to the personal and political reputation of George Bush. But (at least in Britain) the issue was vigorously discussed in moral terms which respected the principles of Just War doctrine. It was argued that Iraq had invaded another sovereign state in defiance of the UN Charter and must be repelled ('just cause'); the objective of military action was to restore the integirty of frontiers and re-establish international authority ('right intention'); the operation had been formally authorized by the international community through a Security Council resolution ('lawful authority'); it had a 'reasonable prospect of success'; and the use of 'smart weapons', absolute superiority in the air and well deployed ground trooops would ensure that the degree of force exerted on Irag and the likely casualities would be 'in proportion' to the object to be achieved, namely the expulsion of Iraqi forces from Kuwait. These traditional Just War arguments persuaded many Christians that the Desert Storm campaign was not merely acceptable to their conscience but was a duty laid upon member states of the United Nations of which the Charter had been flouted; but it was the last category, that of 'proportionality', which caused most misgivings. In an age when the actual conduct of hostilities may be seen by millions on their TV screens and when it is impossible to conceal the scale of casualities suffered and inflicted, what level of death, wounding and destruction would be publicly acceptable as 'proportionate' to the objective? Might the massive exploitation of technological superiority in missiles and aircraft, even if it greatly reduced the risk of casualities to the allies, nevertheless cause injury and suffering to Iraqis (particularly civilians) 'disproportionate' to the scale of the military operation? In the event, despite claims made for the limited damage caused by 'smart weapons', it was this quesiton of proportion which caused most unease: and the ruthless bombing of retreating Iraqi troops on the Basra road, causing thousands of enemy casualities with little apparent military justifiication, forced many to the conclusion that the war had been 'unjust' in its conduct if not in its intention.

It is indeed the difficulty of applying the criterion of porportionality in modern conditions which most seriously calls into question claims by belligerents that the wars they wage are just.10  In the European Christendom in which Aquinas developed the principles of the 'Just War', the practice of making proportionality-calculations must have been so familiar, so embedded in the culture, that in the discussion of the ethics of warfare it would have hardly merited special attention. For the whole of mediaeval trade and commerce was based on belief in the 'just price' for goods or services.

Prices were calculated by the intrinsic use-value of things, not simply by their exchange-value as determined by the market. Elusive as the concept of the 'just price' undoubtedly was, the habit of proportioning prices to use-value was endemic. The huge amount of effort made by theologians, bishops and preachers to stamp out avarice and extortion is proof of belief in the theoretical validity, as well as of the practical difficulty, of the proportionality, or 'just price', principle.

In trade, then, the proportionality principle was taken for granted. But today, in a world where prices are determined by exchange-values in the market, the very concept of proportionality becomes deeply problematic. Indeed under economic conditions of perfect competition the vice of avarice or the practice of extortion would become logical impossibilities, because these vices and their opposing virtues would have no place in the theoretical underpinnings of the system. However, as the existence of public disgust at the avarice of 'fat cats' shows, there is widespread disbelief in market forces as defenders of moral decency. The market cannot be trusted to deliver an ethically tolerable society. Mrs. Thatcher notwithstanding, people want and demand that it be bucked.

Regulation of the activities of market forces, though demanded and necessary, remains problematic. And for precisely parallel reasons, the concept of proportionality has also become problematice for modern belligerents. In our post-Clausewitzian, market-dominated society belligerent behaviour is governed essentially by a market-system of morality, in which the principle of proportionality as a means of regulating war becomes all but unintelligible. In the sixteenth century the successes of rapacious adventurers in making disproportionate profits by stealing the lands and natural resources of the 'Indians' became scandalous to the conservative Dominican moralists of Salamanca, who began to recognize that people had inalienable legal rights simply because they were human. Today determining the just price for military operations — say in calculating the just level of casualities to be inflicted or suffered in a particular engagement — has to be conducted in the absence of any objective principle or criterion. It may be a matter simply of what public opinion will tolerate or what the professionals believe to be appropriate. There is no culture of 'just prices' for victory in modern post-Clausewitzian warfare. And, in the present climate of moral relativism, there is no consensus on how to create one.11

A second Just War principle which has become difficult to apply is that of 'discrimination". This principle can be stated thus: there is simply no purpose, however noble, for the attainment of which it is licit, as a means to an end, intentionally to kill, or to consent (even conditionally) to the killing of, people who are innocent of doing or threatening to do us any harm.

This principle should apply both in waging and in the deterrence of war; but it is not universally accepted. There is, for example, the objection put forward by Michael Walzer in his discussion of siege warfare and the immunity from attack of innocent civilians in the besieged city. He argues that civilian citizens who, having been given the chance to leave the city by the besieging forces, choose for whatever reason to remain, thereby lose their normal immunity from direct attack. This is so even though their 'choice' may well have been made under extreme duress by the defending commander who wants civilians in his city as a kind of protective shield, or to help him in other ways.12  Walzer's argument is founded (a) on the fact that sieges are permitted by the laws of war, and (b) that without the above-mentioned reservation concerning civilian immunity sieges may well turn out to be impossible. Yet Walzer is open to the cirticism that, despite their choice to stay, these civilians still fail to constitute any kind of threat to the besieging forces.13  And if they are no threat, how come they have lost their immunity from attack and have now become legitimate military targets? For even if they are in the city 'voluntarily' they are still not combatants, and surely ought to be allowed the immunity normally granted in Just War theory to those innocent of doing, threatening to do, any harm to their opponents?Mutatis mutandis the same argument can be made about the immunity from direct attack of civilians in a city under aerial bombardment, or even of those caught up in guerilla warfare.

Now Walzer may reply that the civilians' choice to stay despite being given the chance to leave must make some difference to the question of moral responsibility. But what the argument shows is at most that things are not quite as clear cut as the discrimination principle at first suggests.14  Even if the responsibility falling on the various players for the deaths of the civilians in a siege cannot always be clearly identified, this does not alter the essential principle of the inviolability of the innocent in war. The principle of discriminiation retains its absolute validity.

But can this principle still be applied? In modern war, are there any 'innocents'? The twentieth-century concept of 'total war' implies that almost any section of the civilian population may be involved in 'the war effort', and so cease to be strictly non-combatants with immunity from attack. Certainly the very large number of civilian casualities in recent wars suggests that the principle of non-combatant immunity is no longer thought to apply (unless it is being ruthlessly disregarded). The 'collateral damage' consequent upon the use of modern conventional bombardments — let alone nuclear or biological weapons — is now accpeted by strategists as a regrettable but necessary feature of war. If virtually the whole population is regarded as committed to the struggle, their exposure to attack, even if to be avoided so far as possible, is nevertheless regarded as legitimate. In this case the principle of discrimination appears to have become obsolete. Yet there is a way of defining 'innocent' which may give it at least some sphere of application. It can be asked of any section in the population — such as farmers, housewives, children or the elderly — however much they hate the enemy and are in solidarity with others in the struggle against him: Do they in any sense constitute a threat to the success of his military activities? If not, then they surely count as 'innocent", and the principle of discrimination should continue to have at least this limited application.15

Further problems arise when we consider the principle of 'just cause'. From Aquinas onwards, the tradition is quite clear that a Just War may be waged only for the righting of a clearly-defined wrong that has been committed. This implies that the objective of a war must always be strictly limited, a point which might seem to be endorsed by Clausewitz's principle that war is simply a particular means of pursuing a specified objective (though in Clausewitz's thinking it is in fact cancelled out by his insistence that one may proceed as far as the total annihilation of one's opponent). But is a limited war any longer possible in view of modern technologies, the globalization of economic power and the widespread disintegration of unstable states? May the Falklands War have been the last example of a war with the aim of simply righting a specified wrong? And what of irregular wars (by far the commonest sort now and in the foreseeable future) which are nearly always conducted for some absolute principle rather than for the righting of a specific injustice and are seldom brought to an end by the achievement of some limited objective? It is true that from the point of view of the international community such wars may look less like wars than disturbance of the peace by groups of organized criminals; in which case the appropriate armed response is more like a police action than a war, with the limited objective of restoring order in the region. To this extent it may be called 'just". But the international character of the operation itself raises a further problem.

This problem relates to 'just intention' and may be illustrated by the Gulf War of 1991. Was it not designed, pace Bush's rhetoric about establishing a new world order, simply to eject Saddam from Kuwait in accordance with the UN Charter? Not everyone agrees that this was the real aim. There are British Muslims, claiming to speak for a majority of their co-religionists the world over, who insist that the true purpose of the war was to maintain oil supplies to the West, to keep the Islamic world divided, and to perpetuate Western dominance over the Arabs.16  The question here is not whether or not such plausible claims are warranted, but whether in such a case the concept of recta intentio any longer has application. In mediaeval or renaissance or even Napoleonic times the aim of a war was whatever purpose the sovereign belligerent had in waging it. Its aim was his aim, for which he was answerable. In those circumstances there was sense in insisting that, to be just, the sovereign belligerent's aim (his intentio) must be right (recta): namely to establish peace.17But can a huge unwieldy assemblage of variegated states, armies, economies and interests such as was required for dealing with the Kuwait crisis be said to have any clear aim orintentio at all, let alone a right one? Who was in a position to say authoritatively what the was?

Of course one answer to this question was that the aim of the war was the aim set by the United Nations through resolutions of the Security Council. But the United Nations is not a sovereign state, and was not itself a belligerent actor in the war against Saddam. The coalition which waged the war under the aegis of the United Nations (Charter, Article 51) was a coalition of belligerents; but the United Nations was not itself a belligerent. Of course, one can speak of the Security Council's aim, and judge that it was recta. But this was not necessarily the same thing as the aim of the belligerents who joined in the coalition, who may have been motivated by a variety of interests. It may be granted that the Security Council had a right intention in lending its authority to the war. This intention was embodied in resolutions, and certainly did not extend further than removing Saddam from Kuwait (hence the decision not to pursue the war after that objective had been achieved). But here we are trespassing on the territory of lawful authority rather than of recta intentioas Just War theory envisages it, for in international relations theory only states, because they are sovereign actors on the international stage, can be regarded as responsible for war-aims, just as the sovereign prince of old was. It thus made sense to speak of (say) Argentina's aim in occupying the Falkland Islands, or Indonesia's aim of invading East Timor, or Saddam's aim in annexing Kuwait. But these aims are not on a par with the aim of the Security Council in authorizing belligerent action. And it is quite another thing to speak of a coherentintentio among a coalition of interests cobbled together to fight a war under its authority.

It has to be admitted that here we are venturing on to new, tricky, ground. The fact is that the United Nations is neither a sovereign actor nor a government with full authority over other actors. It is a bastard creature of the twentieth-centry's history. Had it been a sovereign belligerent in the Kuwait war, it would have been both judge and jury in its own cause — the Machiavellian anomaly in international relations that the United Nations itself was set up to overcome. On the other hand had it been a sovereign government, it would have had its own forces to deploy — as Boutros Boutros Ghali recommended in his Agenda for Peace. Unfortunately, it was neither, and had to cope as best it could under the far from unambiguous terms of the Charter. The fact is that the United Nations is, and was intended to be, in hock to the 'great powers', that is the major sovereign states who won the Second World War. But things have changed so radically since 1945 that this founding principle is no longer enough. True, a readjustment took place when the Republic of China replaced Taiwan; but this did not alter the underlying principle of the dominance of the 'great powers'. The problem today is that power has been radically redistributed in the world while the United Nations has been unable to accommodate fully to this fact. It is neither a global sovereign authority nor simply a forum for building peace and security among states without recourse to violence. Its ambivalence is an expression of a world in drastic transition, struggling to be reborn. It is this ambivalence which raises unavoidably the question of the applicability, in modern circumstances, of Just War principles, including in particular that of 'right intention' in the use of military force for the settlement of disputes.

There is a further feature of the modern world which may be thought to make Just War reasoning problematic. The tradition was premised upon war being waged between states (or 'princes') for the purpose of righting the wrong which one of them had committed. Its application today (as in the case of the Gulf War of 1991) similarly presupposes that some act of aggression has taken place which it is necessary ('just') to repel and punish. But the end of the twentieth century has seen a significant amount of warfare conducted, not between states, but within states. The question then is not so much whether a neighbouring state or alliance should go to war with an aggressor as whether the international community should intervene within the boundaries of a state and exercise force to prevent genocide, 'ethnic cleansing' or some other major violation of human rights. The dilemma this presents can be expressed in terms of two apparently incompatible Articles of the UN Charter. On the one hand there is an absolute veto on any use of military force to intervene in the domestic affairs of another state (Article 2.7). On the other hand the member states are obliged (Articles 55, 56) to protect and promote human rights to the best of their ability, and recent events (as in Somalia, in Algeria, in former Yugoslavia) show that this may not be possible without the use of force. Can the Just War tradition help to decide whether such action should be taken? Or (to put the questions concisely) is there such a thing as 'just intervention'? 

Some traditional principles certainly seem relevant. One that is regularly appealed to is that of 'lawful authority'. Before considering intervention the international community is keen to be assured that military action is authorized by the UN through the Security Council and is legal according to international law — and it is arguable that (were this practicable) the UN Charter should be amended in order to remove the apparent illegality of intervention in the affairs of an autonomous state in such circumstances.18  'Just cause' again, seems well provided for by the moral necessity of protecting the innocent from deliberate attack. But 'right intention' is particularly difficult to assess. A major part of the problem of military intervention is the lack of a clear objective. If force must be used to protect one part of the population, what then? Can this foreign force remain neutral if the oppressed mount a counter-attack? Is the object to create a 'safe haven', to introduce a long-term peace-keeping force, or to vacate the field as soon as possible? Uncertainty about the future role (or 'intention') of the intervening force is a major cause of hesitation. 'Just proportion', again, is singularly difficult to apply. What level of casualities, if any, will the intervening countries and their public opinion tolerate for their own troops? What degree of force is it appropriate to use in response to the alleged violation human rights? There seems no precedent for answering these questions, and in practice the issue is likely to be debated less in Just War terms than as a matter of balancing the strength of the humanitarian concern voiced by the international community against the practical difficulties and long-term implications of military actions.19  Only a few of the traditional Just War arguments seem to gain any purchase on these increasingly prevalent threats to peace. In this respect, again, many may believe that the tradition is obsolete. 

This discussion has shown that there are serious difficulties in applying Just War principles with any stringency to modern armed conflicts, even though they have been explicitly appealed to in connection with some recent military engagements. But it is this tradition which for many centuries furnished the Christian conscience with justification for disregarding the apparently pacifist mandate of the gospel and for engaging in warfare. If this justification can no longer be maintained, it might seem to follow that Christians today, if they are to remain faithful to the teaching of Christ, have no option but the pacifist one, and that their churches should publicly refuse to endorse the threat or use of force in international affairs. But before drawing this conclusion it is important to bear in mind another strand of Christian thinking which, though implicit in the Just War tradition, appeals not to the philosopical concept of 'justice' but to the principle, explicitly stated in the Bible, of the inviolability of innocent life. It is this principle, now widely accepted, which has given us the 'laws of war' protecting the sick, the injured and prisoners of war and imposing on bellligerents the duty to avoid targeting non-combatants; which has sustained the fundamental objection to a policy of nuclear deterrence (that it acquiesces in the probable slaughter of large numbers of civilians and the maiming of many more still unborn); which adds moral pressure to technical military reasons for developing ever more accurate (or 'smart') weapons so as to reduce what is euphemistically called 'collateral damage' (which usually means civilian casualities) to a minimum; and which is the criterion many people will instinctively use today when considering whether a given military operation, apparently required for the protection of human rights or the re-establishment of international order, is compatible with the Christian conscience.

In point of fact it may be argued that certain elements of the Just War tradition (particularly 'just cause' and 'lawful authority'), along with the religious and humanitarian consensus that the innocent must be protected, are embodied in the UN Charter, and that this now provides a guide to the Christian conscience which replaces both. Article 52 limits the permissible pretexts for war to self-defence in case of attack by an aggressor, and then only until the international community has been able to mediate; Article 42 authorizes the UN to use force if necessary to cause the aggressor to desist; and Articles 55 and 56 (in uneasy tension with the foregoing) lay the duty on member states to protect the human rights of individuals, with the implication that in serious cases of genocide or 'ethnic cleansing' it might be necessary to intervene by force. On the basis of these provisions there is an emerging international consensus that: 

(1) no use or threat of force is permissible that is not in accordance with the UN Charter;

(2) military action should normally be engaged upon only with the authority of a UN Security Council Resolution;

(3) it must be conducted with the minimum force required to achieve the objective and with the utmost practicable protection of non-combatants;

(4) all personnel must adhere strictly to internationally agreed laws of war and rule of engagement.

The consensus undoubtedly represents a significant advance in humanity's striving for peace and order and deserves the widest possible endorsement, including that of Christians. Indeed it was concern whether the Nato campaign in the Balkans in 1999 strictly observed these conditions that underlay much of the anxoius questioning to which that campaign was subjected. In particular, the duty to support the United Nations and its agencies and to adhere scrupulously to the Charter is laid upon all who are committed to work for peace. This does not mean, of course, that the UN is above reproach or can claim ultimate authority over the conscience of individuals. Security Council or General Assembly resolutions represent only the views of the majority that voted for them, and may well have been influenced by the political interests of the most powerful states. Yet the degree to which they take account of the traditional principles of just cause, right intention and lawful authority before authorizing military operations, and insist on the protection of the innocent in their conduct, arguably provides a criterion by which Christians may decide whether they can in conscience approve them and take part in them. On the other hand, our discussion has suggested that the difficulty and uncertainty involved in applying this criterion may drive more and more Christians to consider seriously adopting a pacifist stance. But before we discuss this further, there is another potion to be considered.

The above material, Chapter 4 'The Just War Tradition Today' in A.E. Harvey, Demanding Peace Today: Christian Responses to War and Violence, SCM Press 1999, appears here with the permission of SCM-Canterbury Press. Copies of the book (price $13.99) can be obtained in the USA through their agents, IPM, 22841 Quicksliver Drive, Dulles VA 20166. Telephone: 800-758-3756, Fax: 703-661-1501.

Notes to Chapter 4 The Just War Tradition today

  1. Augustine, Contra Faustum 22.74. Translation as in John Langan, 'The Elements of St. Augustine's Just War Theory' in William S. Babcock (ed), The Ethics of St. Augustine, Scholars Press, Atlanta 1991, p.171.
  2. For Aquinas' views on infidels see Summa Theologiae IIA IIae Q.10.
  3. See N. Tanner (ed), Decrees of the Ecumenical Councils, Sheed and Ward and Georgetown University Press 1990, Vol.1, p.203: 'We prohibit under anathema that murderous art of cross-bowmen and archers, which is hateful to God, to be employed against Christians and Catholics from now on' (Canon 29). The cross-bow was not just a very nasty weapon; it was oibjectionable also because it was a favourite of low-born soldiers, whose skill with it against mercenaries and brigands threatened the privileged status of the knightly class. On the historical context of this decree see James Turner Johnson, The Quest for Peace, Princeton University Press 1987, p. 78.
  4. Timothy MacDermott, Summa Theologiae: A Concise Translation, Eyre and Spottiswoode 1989, p. 328.
  5. Cf. James Turner Johnson, Ideology, Reason and the Limitation of War, Princeton University Press 1975, chs III and IV passim.
  6. For the view that this prolbem has caused a breakdown of the tradition of moral philosophy in our own day, see G.E. M. Anscombe, 'Modern Moral Philosophy' in Collected Philosophical Papers, Vol. III, Blackwell 1981, pp. 26-42.
  7. Advisory Opinion on Legality of the Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, International Court of Justice, The Hague, 8 July 1996.
  8. While the Court says that the threat or use of nuclear weapons 'would generally be contrary to the rules of international law applicable in armed conflict', it cannot give a clear ruling on the legality of the threat or use of nuclear weapons 'in an extreme circumstance of self-defence, in which the very survival of a state would be at stake' (Advisory Opinion 105E). This loophole is reminiscent of Michael Walzer's argument about 'supreme emergency' in ch.16 of Just and Unjust Wars, Allen Lane 1978. On the other hand, the Court insists (following Article VI of the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty) that 'there exists an obligation to pursue in good faith and bring to a conclusion negotiations leading to nuclear disarmament in all its aspects under strict and effective international control'. This obligation is stressed by the Court without making any reference to 'general and complete disarmament' which is also mentioned in Article VI. The Court appears to regard the obligation to negotiate on nuclear disaramament as a quite separate matter from negotiations on 'general and complete disarmament' despite the fact that some states, in their arguments before the Court, sought to establish an inextricable connection between the two (see John Burroughs, The (Il)legality of Threat or Use of Nuclear Weapons, Munster 1997, pp.50 and 122-23).
  9. 'All the clerical holy orders are services of the altar on which Christ's sufferings are made present in sacrament. So their office is not to kill or shed other's blood, but rather to be ready to shed their own for Christ, imitating in very deed what they sacrementally re-enact' (Aquinas, Summa Theologiae IIa AIIAe Q.40 Art.2, trs Timothy MacDermott, p.367).
  10. The following two paragraphs, and much of the argument which follows, are taken from a paper submitted by Brian Wicker.
  11. See Brian Wicker, 'A Just Defence of Just Prices' in New Blackfriars, Vol.77, No.904, May 1996, pp.232ff. for examples. If war is conducted on Clausewitizian 'absolute' principles, notions of proportionality go out of the window. J.F.C. Fuller put this point concisely: 'Clausewitz's insistence that war is a political instrument is the first principle of all military statecraft, but his equal insistence on the complete overthrow of the enemy vitiates the end of grand strategy, which is that a profitable peace demands not the annihilation of one's opponent, but the elimination or modification of the causes of war' (see J.F.C. Fuller, The Conduct of War 1789-1961: A Study of the Impact of the French, Industrial and Russian Revolutions on War and its Conduct, Methuen 1961, p.310).
  12. Michael Walzer, Just and Unjust Wars, ch.10.
  13. Theodore J.Koontz, "Non-Combatant Immunity in Michael Walzer's "Just and Unjust Wars"' in Ethics and International Affairs, Vol.II(1997), pp.55-82.
  14. Michael Walzer in Ethics and International Affairs, Vol.II(1997), pp.102-3
  15. There is also the point made by Elizabeth Anscombe that neglect of the distinction between the innocent and the combatant leads to serious moral damage: 'Pacifism teaches people to make no distinction between the shedding of innocent blood and the shedding of any human blood. And in this way pacifism has corrupted enormous numbers of people who will not act according to its tenets. They become convinced that a number of things are wicked which are not; hence seeing no way of avoiding wickedness, they set not limits to it' (G.E.M. Anscombe, 'War and Murder' in Collected Philosophical Papers, Vol. III, Blackwell 1981, pp.51-62;originally published in Walter Stein(ed), Nuclear Weapons and Christian Conscience, Merlin Press 1961, pp.45-62).
  16. For a statement of this argument see Haleem, Ramsbotham, Risaluddin and Wicker (eds), The Crescent and the Cross, pp.164-71.
  17. When Aquinas insists that war can be just only if waged with a recta intentio he has in mind not so much the subjective reflections of the ruler as the aim or purpose of the war he is engaged in.
  18. See Roger Williamson (ed), Some Corner of a Foreign Field, Macmillan 1998, pp.58-61.
  19. When the balance tipped in favour of NATO intervening in Serbia and Kosovo in 1999, allegedly (and unsuccessfully) to prevent further atrocities, many of these questions remained unanswered and returned to call into question the justice of the campaign.
The roots of Just War thinking are to be found, not in scripture, but in the Stoic tradition of philosophy that can be traced back in its essentials to Aristotle. The highest priority was not (as it tends to be in modern thinking) the preservation...
Tagged in: Just War

The following paper was delivered to the Clericus of the Diocese of Vermont
Randolph, Vermont, November 19, 2002 by Bishop George Packard

Before beginning, and for the record, let me list the generally agreed upon basics of 
Just War.

A Just War should:

Be executed as a last resort. 

Waged by a legitimate authority.

Fought with the right intention to redress an injury.

Have a reasonable chance of success.

Have the ultimate goal of re-establishing peace. 

Violence employed must be proportional to the injury suffered. 

Weapons used must discriminate between combatants and non-combatants.

(The above seven tenets are summarized from Thomas Aquinas's position on Just War.

When discussing "Just War", a proposition and set of principles inherited from classical philosophy via Saints Augustine and Thomas Aquinas, there is always the persistent and accompanying question, "Does it still have a part to play in the contemporary striving of humanity to reduce the risk of war? Can it legitimize a Christian non-pacifist position?"

In the preparation of this statement from our Office we have used a variety of sources. Primarily the Internet will produce any number of materials on Just War. We encourage you to log on to begin your own helpful accumulation. Additionally these three specific resources are extremely helpful:

  • Chapter Four of the book, "Demanding Peace. Christian Responses to War and Violence." by A.E. Harvey, SCM Press, 1999. (This collaboration with members of the Council on Christian Approaches to Defense and Disarmament and the Church Peace Forum, provides a succinct overview of "Just War" in the immediate post Gulf War era.
  • "Just and Unjust War. A Moral Argument with Historical Illustrations." (Second Edition) by Michael Walzer, Basic Books, 1992. (A detailed, easy-to-read account of the history and evolution of Just War theory. Though written in 1992, the text seems dated and naïve on the subject of terrorism. Its only flaw.)

There is an erroneous perspective within parts of the Church that scriptural study will yield significant assistance in framing a point of view vis-à-vis war. The Hebrew Testament speaks of the Yahweh God as warlike at times and quite violent. As well, Israel is no model for compassionate conduct in the prosecution of battle.

As Christians we look to the New Testament for guidance yet our Lord says nothing about war, though he indirectly addresses soldiers and uses examples of preparation for battle as examples of being prepared for the Kingdom of God.

For a sense of our Lord's attitude we must "go beyond war" and embrace Christ's message of the preciousness of and need for the redemption of every human being, his/her dignity and essence in God's sight, and the importance of their living out a destiny in God's service. It is hard to think of living out such destiny through the violence of war yet the origins of Just War have the noble origin of conflict on behalf of the innocent.(Thomas Aquinas and his comments are listed under the "Love" section of his works.) It is in these moments that we turn to Just War doctrine, for life, in its ambiguous complexity, might force us to choose to offer life for the saving of life. In short, we always seem destined-short of the Kingdom of God-to frame out the best, worst case scenario with lively discussions about the legitimacy of war.

As mentioned earlier, the Stoic philosophers were primarily responsible for the origin of justice in war principles, an approach which would be "approved by reason and informed by virtue." (Harvey) It is Aquinas who adapted the natural law of human behavior in war linking it to God's continuing revelation. His concern was not so much over the loss of life, the promise of heaven and eternity was ever-present, as it was for an opportunity for redemption in this life. All things were available for that dynamic and so the Thomist position weds God and the infinite variety of natural law. All human action, as it fumbles to do the right thing, is of God. It is God Almighty who is the arbiter amidst the ambiguities of life, and even war. It seemed fit and right, then, reasoned Aquinas, that humankind, by God's grace, should fashion the best way forward into any future, military or otherwise. That which was "approved by reason and informed by virtue" is now watched by God, says Aquinas, and is of His deep concern.

As time passed and the civilized Western world expanded through trade and exploration, so did the concept of war. Now Just War wasn't an agreement only within the Christian "family" but had to accommodate to inform conflicts where infidels were involved. This development brought about the eventual breach in the Thomist synthesis of divine revelation and natural law. It was a new era, one in which natural law, alone, perhaps administered by a growing sense of international law and fairness, would be the inheritor of the Just War legacy.

Earnest conversation about Just War has never prevented a war. Rather it is the source of persistent and reflective questions. Often these questions are continuously posed throughout a society's sense of itself in war and not only in the preparation period. For example, What weapons are being created? When would they be used and to what result? If a trade blockade is instituted, how will it be maintained and what allowances for humanitarian aid will there be? (Ironically this question continues relative Iraq as a leftover from last conflict even as dialogue commences about preparation for the next.) What targets are contemplated in the prosecution of the conflict and do they have impact on the civilian population and will those choices hamper recovery after the conflict?

Modern warfare throughout the world seems to be on a smaller scale, less distinct, and fraught with internal variation. Our current War on Terrorism is confirming that. Often a terrorist movement is the result of a specific grievance by a criminal or revolutionary element in the society. In such instances Just War principles seem even harder to apply. Some fresh thinking has been generated recently to meet the challenge and maybe key as we conceive of pre-eminent responses. (This Office is currently completing an addenda to this paper on this subject.)

The Gulf War, the second conflict with a United Nations commitment (Korea being the first), seemed to rise to the level of a just conflict as the war drama began. A right intention, restoring the order before Iraq's invasion, was satisfied. So too, in novel way, was the principle of legitimate authority undertaking the task, as the Security Council went on record and recruited agent nations-the U S being primary-to prosecute the war. (To this point-that the UN must always apply its decisions through the variability of agents--Michael Walzer maintains Just War principles will always be an obvious, necessary, and moral constant.)

Yet with increased exploitation of technology, the proportional dynamic in the battle area became noticeably one-sided. The firepower employed by the coalition of countries was extraordinary. As Walzer writes, it is hard to apply the measured reponse contemplated in Just War when the battle is a rout and a "turkey shoot." We should note, in fairness, that there was considerable discussion during the air portion of the Gulf War that a concerted effort was underway in the "moral" evaluation of each target. Later, and on the ground, the reality of those strikes was another matter. Nevertheless it does not diminish the interest and energy of trying to abide by Just War standards. It should sound an alarm, however, to our military planners as they endeavor to apply ethical standards of Just War through an integrated approach.

Clearly the single principle of proportionality bears special attention in this era and perhaps beyond. An axiom develops with this view of a proportional response: vigilance for the non-combatant. As referenced earlier, the inviolability of human life is the clear message for our Lord Jesus Christ. Given that, and the ambiguous nature of embracing right behavior, we must become sensitive experts in being advisors on the use of power for noble purposes and just deeds. +gep

Note: A Pastoral Teaching from the House of Bishops on this, and other social issues, will be completed and available prior to General Convention , 2003.

The following paper was delivered to the Clericus of the Diocese of Vermont Randolph, Vermont, November 19, 2002 by Bishop George Packard Before beginning, and for the record, let me list the generally agreed upon basics of  Just War. A Just War...
Tagged in: Iraq War Just War

Today, the United States is the only super-power on the face of the earth. With such power comes the ability to wage war unilaterally using our own country’s set of presuppositions and or priorities. Yet the United States is a country, that ostensibly is “God fearing” and “under God.” As Christians in the United States, seeking to serve and advance God’s mission of repentance, reconciliation and restoration in the face of war, Episcopalians must ask ourselves how and when can war be justified? Does just war theory, a theory and set of principles inherited from classical philosophy via Saints Augustine and Thomas Aquinas, have anything to say to us and to our country today? Does it have a part to play in the contemporary striving of humanity to reduce the risk of war? Can it legitimize a Christian non-pacifist position? When facing the agony of prospective war, or the consequences of having to act morally within one, the church must reconsider the concept of “just war.” Armed conflict is so terrible and such a disfiguring act for humankind that a reasoned evaluation of and by the faithful in the time leading to battle, and after it commences, is of the utmost urgency.

Two evaluations must be brought to the subject. First, why nations engage in war or, the justice of war? Second, a criteria applied to how the war is being fought, the justice in war. The former refers to how “just” the cause for war is, “jus ad bello.” The latter, “jus in bello,” governs the behavior of the military, possibly other agents, perhaps even ourselves if we are close to the events of battle, though most times we are some distance from the conflict. Indeed war, though often far removed from us, cannot be a casual interest since it is a commissioning of others to kill on our behalf. As it says in a litany of confession, “Forgive us for the evil done in our name. Lord, hear our prayer.”
Christianity is not alone in looking for a moral way when considering aspects of war. For example, Jewish tradition has a reference to “righteous arms”; Islamic belief represents it under the title “justifiable defense.” Within the philosophy of just war, however, Christians are especially active in assuming roles to assure the common good. Their purpose might include forming a government or even assuming public office. Since the baptized are also citizens, this could mean direct participation in those parts of the society where the use of coercive force is necessary, such as the police or the military.

This background of societal engagement joined by an increasing influence of natural law reasoning, resulted in the development of the just war theory. Just war theory thus comes to us today as a considered set of assumptions, principles, and conditions. It is intended to be a moral map by which we can find our way through an array of ethical, empirical, and spiritual issues when the possibility that coercive force might be employed.
The “hell” of warfare, though a social creation, tends, as Karl Von Clausewitz wrote, to have no limit but simply the steady movement to increasing ruthlessness. General Dwight D. Eisenhower observed that the only boundary seemed to be the limitations of force itself. Given that extremity, how can any guidance possibly contemplate success in setting boundaries on warfare?

It is God’s intention for peace to abide everywhere, and just war theory acknowledges that war is always a departure from the way humanity is intended to live. But the facts of the world often present life where we cannot live in pretended innocence. Max Stackhouse writes, “violence erupts in the midst of history and sometimes the use of forceful means is necessary to overcome that violence and re-establish the relative peace that is possible.”

The Development of Just War Propositions
There is an erroneous perspective within parts of the Church that scriptural study will yield significant assistance in framing a point of view vis-à-vis war. The Hebrew Testament speaks of the Yahweh God as warlike at times and quite violent. Moreover, Israel is no model for compassionate conduct in the prosecution of battle. As Christians we look to the New Testament for guidance but our Lord says nothing about war, though he indirectly addresses soldiers and uses examples of preparation for battle as examples of being prepared for the Kingdom of God. For a sense of our Lord’s attitude we embrace Christ’s message of the preciousness of and need for the redemption of every human being, his/her dignity and essence in God’s sight, and the importance of living out a destiny in God’s service.

The evolution of the just war theory, however, has its roots in classical antiquity. Plato formulated a code of just war although Aristotle phrased it as “just war.” Plato within the context of the wars between Ptolomic city-states wrestled with the problematic thought that Greeks would wish to exterminate fellow Greeks. He helped to establish the parameters within which rational people would wage war as the ultimate way of settling disputes. The just war was meant to vindicate justice and restore peace. Beyond Plato and Aristotle, just war theory is traced back to the Roman orator and statesman, Cicero (d. 43 BC). Ambrose of Milan (c. 339-397) introduced Cicero’s ideas into Christian theology, subsequent church fathers like Augustine and Aquinas further developed just war theology as a part of the Christian ethos, and Luther and Calvin carried them into the Protestant Reformation. Pacifism, as a Christian doctrine, is enacted only later through church groups such as Anabaptist and later Quakers. But each of these groups gave different emphases to understandings of nonviolence. These marginalized groups are important variations in the historical tradition of the church that has at times operated firmly in the service of the rulers and at other times struggled to distance itself from oppressive rulers by affirming an alternative liberative tradition. 
In Christian history then, three attitudes are to be found towards war: pacifism, just war and holy war. The early church, persecuted by a pagan state was pacifist until the time of Constantine of the fourth century, when through the early church’s close association with the state and the threat of the barbarian invasions, Christians took over the classical world’s doctrine of just war, especially as St Ambrose and St Augustine added Christian elements to understanding just war. In order to fight in a war, the motive had to be love and the clergy were exempt from fighting in war until the crusades of the middle ages. Just war seems to have become an official church doctrine through the rise of Renaissance Italy’s city-states. Perhaps the chief justification for war came through the Reformation that precipitated wars on religion. For example, Anglicans and Lutherans accepted just war and by and large still do today. As the church grew complicit with colonization in the 18th and 19th centuries, the interpretation of peace among nation states changed on the basis of European churches now defining what should represent peace around the world. Then the 20th century came with two world wars in which the church’s three positions of just war, pacifism, and holy war resurfaced again, but in a different way. 

Today the question of just war is at the forefront of the church as the world balances on the brink of war. Before discussing the applicability of just war theory and how it might or might not serve God’s mission of repentance, reconciliation and restoration, it is important to state the just war tenants. Building on the above history and summarizing Thomas Aquinas’s position on just war, a just war should; Be executed as a last resort after all other peaceful initiatives have been truly exhausted.

  • Be declared and waged by a legitimate authority, usually a state or nation. This means unassailable and ultimate control to authorize a beginning and an end to the conflict.
  • Be fought with the right intention to redress an injury and thereby the embrace of a “just cause.” This is a primary proposition, which describes the parameters of the conflict and guards against questionable national ambitions.
  • Have a reasonable chance of success. A war should not begin if it cannot change the situation and redress the wrong.
  • Have the ultimate goal of re-establishing a just peace and counsels that the victor “settle up” after the war is over.
  • Employ violence proportionally to the injury suffered. As the war commences, force must be measured to the good effect it intends.
  • Use weapons and strategies that discriminate between combatants and non-combatants. With the increased use of more deadly weapons and their tendencies to inflict “collateral damage” on innocent civilians, this has become the abiding problem in determining a just course in the prosecution of a conflict.

How the Propositions Are Applied
Many feel that World War II has been the only classic example of a war brought to bear with just cause and just administration. Certainly stopping Fascist expansionist designs as well responding to the Holocaust puts this war in a special and noble category, not to mention a first attack on Pearl Harbor. But the years of the conflict also include intentional Allied bombing campaigns directed at civilians in German cities and, of course, Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
After the Korean War, the 1991Gulf War was only the second conflict to receive a United Nations commitment. It was watched closely and initially seemed to rise to the level of a just conflict as hostilities began. A right intention, restoring the order before Iraq’s invasion, was satisfied. So too, in novel ways, was the principle of legitimate authority undertaking the task, as the Security Council went on record and recruited member nations-the U. S. being primary-to prosecute the war. It was noted at the time that since the United Nations must always apply its decisions through the variability of agent nations, the moral constant of just war principles had particular appeal. As the war progressed however, the extraordinary and disproportionate firepower employed by coalition forces coupled with significant damage to civilian casualties and resources halted any satisfaction that a just war was underway. 

Failing the existence of perfect examples as a moral checklist, the just war formula usually follows the following course of application:

Because God expects peace, the use of force must be the last resort as patience dictates the exploration of every possible alternative. An exceptional response is allowed in self-defense. When an immediate attack is underway much is granted to the society as its livelihood and very corporate self is threatened. 

This reveals the originating premise in just war theory: that of initiating action under a right intention or just cause. The U.S. position towards Iraq is currently being questioned closely about such a determining cause since so much depends on its presentation in order to reach the level of a defensible claim. 

Just as the reason for war must be unassailable so too must be the authority which brings coercive force to bear. In our present day this can be an elusive yet fundamental exercise, (e.g. the argument of the African National Congress with the apartheid regime in South Africa) because it is the access to and ultimately the guideline for future just behavior. For, very quickly as Max Stackhouse comments, “practical calculations have to be made: One is whether there is a realistic hope of success, a just peace is not established by futile suicide. The other is that a case has to be made that more good than harm is likely to come of it - no just peace is aided by actions that make the problems worse.”

Given that the preliminary conditions are met in order to declare war, the just war convention does not give carte blanche to prosecute warfare by any and all means. Behavioral conditions would now be operable for the justice in war, “jus in bello,” phase. These identifiable conditions, such as using weapons of a proportionate nature to the offense and employing a manner to discriminate between combatants and non-combatants, allow for a measure of care and balance to prevail in an environment fraught with pain and chaos. The standard continues in the provision of prisoner care and treatment. Unique for an arena where there is an exchange of violence, the just war convention requires the victors to restore the conquered to a just level of living.

Just Behavior in War 
Even after hostilities begin, the pursuit of justice continues as two tensions convene. One is the desire to win the war quickly, bringing everything necessary to bear as an aspect of utility to assure victory. Of the second tension, Michael Walzer observes that there is an imperative to prosecute the war morally, or, “to carry on the fight well.” He further comments that both aspects of justice in war, “jus in bello”, “(are) the military equivalent of an ends and means concern.”

With increased use of technology, the proportional dynamic in the battle area can become noticeably one-sided. The firepower employed by the coalition of countries during the Gulf War was extraordinary. As Michael Walzer writes, it is hard to apply the measured response contemplated in just war when the battle is a rout and a “turkey shoot.” We should note, in fairness, that there was considerable discussion during the air portion of the Gulf War that a concerted effort was underway in the “moral” evaluation of each target. Later, and on the ground, the reality of those strikes was another matter. Nevertheless it does not diminish the interest and energy of trying to abide by just war standards. It should sound an alarm, however, to military planners as they endeavor to apply ethical standards of just war. Keeping moral pace with the weapons used in an increasingly lethal battlefield environment is a rigorous exercise.

Clearly, then, the single principle of proportionality bears special attention in this era and beyond. An axiom develops with this view of a proportional response: vigilance for the non-combatant. The inviolability of human life is the clear message from our Lord Jesus Christ. Given that, and the ambiguous nature of embracing right behavior, we must become sensitive experts in being advisors on the use of power for noble purposes and just deeds. 
Most modern warfare throughout the world is unseen, and not publicized. Save for a few years there has always been some part of our planet at war. Usually it involves disputes on a small scale, less distinct, and fraught with internal variation. Our current “War on Terrorism” is now in that category. Often a terrorist movement is the result of a specific grievance by a criminal or revolutionary element in the society. In such instances just war principles seem even harder to apply as the hostility (true to the concept of terrorist threat)moves in and out of a prospective and imaginary status. Some fresh thinking has been generated recently to meet the challenge and may be key as we conceive of pre-emptive responses.

Pre-emptive and Preventative War
Recently, with the War on Terrorism, the question of the additional condition of the justness of a pre-emptive and preventative war has demanded attention. There has always been a precarious philosophy about preventative war and the balance of power since such a posture could lead to any number of odd conflicts. Achieving such a balance is difficult and needlessly delays the formation of a lasting Christian attitude. The counter response is that fighting now prevents fighting later on a larger scale. That thinking, of course, is leading us into a current foreign policy which, failing any identifiable opposing state, moves us away from any current understanding of the just war convention. 

The challenge is to identify and isolate the nation which espouses a threatening attitude and then to determine a course of action. But the task does not end there. For, current proposed preventive military action so rearranges the understanding of just war to the point of being unrecognizable. The just war convention is based on a world of integrity and relative relationships among nations as sovereign states. Not only does that coherency use order and exchange as a framework, it infers the prevention of unilateral appropriation of the just war theory by one state over another. Understandably, the United States. is desperately trying to pursue a foreign policy which will protect its citizenry, but the just war convention is charged with a longer view of world history, one that sets limits on interactive behavior. To do otherwise opens the door to the kind of opportunistic acts of a Hitler showing “just cause” for the invasion of Poland. 

This new era seems to depend upon de-facto “packaging” parts of the just war convention for contemporary application with inconclusive results. Is not there a justifiable response when there has been a demonstrated threat to the common good? Indeed, we can stipulate, as Walzer says, sufficient “acts of malignity” promoted by terrorist organizations which rise to the level of “threat,”, or, “(the) declaration of one’s intention of inflicting injury.”
It has been said that injury and provocation are the commonly used references of just war and make up the threats under which no nation can be expected to live. With that analysis as a guide, we are asked to move along a range in search of those who have already harmed us or who are currently engaged in doing so. For Michael Walzer, once that circumstance is realized, an appraisal must be realized to determine the “intent to injure, the degree of participation that makes that intent a positive danger, and most important, a general situation in which waiting or doing anything other than fighting greatly magnifies the risk.” When the point of sufficient threat is reached, so the thinking goes, a preventative attack is warranted.

The Limits of Just War
John Howard Yoder has a lot to say about limitations of just war theory in his essay, “Just War Tradition: Is It Credible?” He urges that any honest discussion of just war must address the illusion that it always conveys certainty. It is an easy mistake since the exercise is based on the moral discernment of facts and universally accessible rational principles. In this process it is essential for the inquiring Christian to insist on what facts and information are truly available. That presents a two-fold problem. First, in a democracy the part of the sovereign contemplated in just war theory is not a distant ruler who decides upon a course of action but rather the “people” of the republic. Bosnia War correspondent, Chris Hedges says, “Establishing just cause is crucial in the war effort so the people’s agent, the government, spends tremendous time protecting, explaining, and promoting the cause.” But activities of information control severely restricts a population from any just war exercise. The conflict with an administration preparing for war is obvious and not in concert with the free debate so necessary to give the people, as Yoder says, “the wherewithal for evaluating the claimed justification for war.” 

George Weigel makes a potent observation about just war. He says it is an “essential moral dimension for statecraft in the modern world.” But what of how certain states deceive themselves seizing the high moral ground “thereby suffering from illusions about their own righteousness?”

Earnest conversation about just war has never prevented a war. Rather the just war convention has always been a means for inquiry and moral reflection. These questions are continuously posed throughout a society’s sense of itself in war, not only in the preparation period. For example: What weapons are being created? When would they be used and to what result? If a trade blockade is instituted, how will it be maintained and what allowances for humanitarian aid will there be? (Ironically, this question remains unanswered from the last Gulf War.) What targets are contemplated in the prosecution of the conflict, do they have impact on the civilian population, and will those choices hamper recovery after the conflict?

As faithful Christians seeking to be responsible to God’s mission of repentance, reconciliation and restoration, we must engage these questions about the use and abuse of just war theory. We must participate in public discourse about war, as individual citizens at the personal level, as members of parishes at the communal level, and as members of a global Anglican communion, that includes Iraq as part of the Anglican Diocese of Cyprus and the Gulf. Educating ourselves about just war theory, its applicability and its limits is a profound act of faithful service to the God who reconciles and restores all to wholeness and peace.

For Further Discussion
1) Trace the development of just war theory. How does just war theory build on the idea of Christian ethics and ideals?
2) Do you think just war theory is applicable in these times? Why or why not?
3) What do you think God is trying to say to us as communities of faith, given that the United States is the only super-power in the world today

Today, the United States is the only super-power on the face of the earth. With such power comes the ability to wage war unilaterally using our own country’s set of presuppositions and or priorities. Yet the United States is a country, that...
Tagged in: Veterans

Recently Bishop Packard attended the annual Awards Lunch for VA Chaplains, where our own Chaplain Bill Mahedy received the Chaplain of the Year award in the full-time category.  The luncheon speaker was Dr. Thomas L. Garthwaite, Under Secretary for Health.  The following is an excerpt from his speech.

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.  It was a cowboy’s life, a life for someone who wanted no boss.  What I didn’t realize was that it was also a ministry.  Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional.   Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives.  I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, made me laugh and weep.  But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night.

I was responding to a call from a small brick four-plex in a quiet part of town.  I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partiers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory for the industrial part of town.

When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window.  Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away.  But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation.  Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door.  This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself.  So I walked to the door and knocked.  “Just a minute,” answered a frail, elderly voice.  I could hear something being dragged across the floor.  After a long pause, the door opened.  A small woman in her 80s stood before me.  She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie.  By her side was a small nylon suitcase.  The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years.  All the furniture was covered with sheets.  There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters.  In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware

“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said.  I took the suitcase to the car, then returned to assist the woman.  She took my arm and we talked slowly toward the curb.  She kept thanking me for my kindness.

“It’s nothing,” I told her.  “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated.”

“Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said. 

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked,  “Could you drive through downtown?”

“It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said.  “I’m in no hurry.  I’m on my way to a hospice.”  I looked in the rearview mirror.  Her eyes were glistening.  “I don’t have any family left,” she continued.  “The doctor says I don’t have very long.”  I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.  “What route would you like me to take?” I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city.  She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.  We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds.  She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.  Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired.  Let’s go now.”  We drove in silence to the address she had given me.  It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.  Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up.  They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.  They must have been expecting her.  I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door.  The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.

“Nothing.” I said.

“You have to make a living,” she answered.

“There are other passengers,” I responded.  Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.  She held onto me tightly.

“You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said.  “Thank you.”  I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut.  It was the sound of the closing of a life.  I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift.  I drove aimlessly, lost in thought.  For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk.  What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift?  What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, and then driven away?  On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.  We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.  But great moments often catch us unaware, beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

People may not remember exactly what you did, or what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel.

Recently Bishop Packard attended the annual Awards Lunch for VA Chaplains, where our own Chaplain Bill Mahedy received the Chaplain of the Year award in the full-time category.  The luncheon speaker was Dr. Thomas L. Garthwaite, Under Secretary for...