Confronting the generals: war no more!

As U.S. cruise missiles have been deployed again, I am reminded of a conference I attended in California. There I met three young U.S. Army generals who were also invited speakers. They were intelligent, articulate, attractive, and had come to pitch the virtues of the new army. After the debacle of Vietnam, they told us, the army decided to effect reforms that would create an ethical democratic institution, one in which neither race nor gender would trump individual merit.

One of the most enthusiastic of the generals who lauded the military and its virtues was Barry McCaffery. Today, General McCaffery is celebrated as the leader of the U.S. crusade against drugs. As the most decorated soldier in the Vietnam War, he sustained serious wounds and is a stellar example of the warrior hero.

I, on the other hand, obviously no warrior, had been invited to give a talk on conscience and moral decision making. Thus I was fascinated by the generals' moral apology for war and a strong military establishment. We were shown a film depicting the army's mobilization and engagement in the Gulf War. Against a background of stirring music, waving flags, and blue skies, there were shots of attractive young soldiers, both men and women, doing their duty with esprit and Skill. I could not help noticing, however, that there wasn't a mention of bloodshed, wounds, casualties, or corpses. And there was certainly no depiction of U.S. troops suffocating entrenched Iraqi soldiers by bulldozing tons of sand over their bunkers.

Next up on the program was a pugnacious tarheel general. He gave a witty speech extolling his leadership of the army's operation in Panama. He claimed this campaign had been efficient and ethical, despite accusations from liberals like Ramsey Clark. Our general then went on to sing the praises of the army as a moral and religiously upright outfit; the army, he claimed, was living out the most godly ideals of the Christian tradition. Any questions?

At this point conscience pushed me to my feet. Politely I began by saying that I too was a Southerner, indeed a military child whose people had fought in every war since the Revolution. My father was a Navy captain and my beloved Uncle Tom was a West Point graduate who had become a major general. My disagreements with the speech were not due to personal prejudice.

But, I asked, how can the U.S. Army be exemplifying the best traditions of Christianity when "Thou shalt not kill" is a central commandment? Aren't we enjoined by Christ to love our neighbors, even our enemies, as ourselves? If each and every human being bears the image of God, how can we glory in wars which destroy people?

The general didn't bat an eye. He assured me that while I might hold these opinions the American people did not. For them the enemies of our country were not seen as morally equal to Americans. End of discussion. Nietzsche would have been proud of this thrust against the "despicable" Christian doctrine of the "equality of souls before God."

Although I had been put down in public, I persisted in private to push the conscience thing with the troops. I didn't get very far. One general told me that he felt that the conscientious objectors he'd seen who had "suddenly and suspiciously" discovered scruples when war was declared, were really cowards. And Barry McCaffery, who I surmised was a fellow Catholic, said that the just-war doctrine resolved moral problems for him. In his speech he had exulted with a fierceness worthy of Homer that he had been lucky enough to lead the decisive offensive against Saddam.

Well yes, who wouldn't despise Saddam? I once read an eyewitness account of Saddam casually putting out his cigarette in the eye of one of his prisoners. Surely this monster justly deserves punishment for all of his crimes against his opponents and his own people. Equally depraved perpetrators of atrocities in Bosnia, Rwanda, South Africa, Sudan, and a score of other places also deserve trial and imprisonment. I support international tribunals for war crimes, and grant the need for coercive but nonlethal police actions to restrain predators and psychopaths.

But does this mean I can morally justify missile attacks or full-scale war? Can there be "good violence" or "remedial, righteous violence" that can overcome or prevent "bad violence"? Watching a TV series on the history of war or going to see Saving Private Ryan, makes me think that societies have countenanced war because they have never confronted what actually happens during a conflict. With enough distance and self-deception it may have been possible to suppress empathy for the sufferers.

Nor have we calculated war's effect upon those persons who survive the violence. Only recently have we admitted the prevalence of post-traumatic stress syndromes. And in all the books on war and the face of battle that I have ever read, women and their sufferings are nonexistent. Yet it is argued that men fight to defend their women as well as for their country. Supporters of just-war theory point to the necessity of war to stop a Hitler or the horrors of the Holocaust, or to overthrow torturers, thugs, terrorists, and tyrants like Idi Amin or Pol Pot. Can we let such evil men and their regimes run roughshod over the innocent and not take up arms? More to the point, can we have UN peacekeeping forces without a readiness to engage in battle? Serbian war criminals like Radovan Karadzic and Ratko Mladic are not going to give themselves up voluntarily.

All right. I understand the arguments of my fellow Christians who defend just wars. But in the end, none of these arguments convinces me. How could they when, as a Christian, I believe in a God who chooses to suffer violence on the Cross rather than to sponsor it? Over and over Christ commands us to love each other as he has loved us, to take up our cross and forgive rather than do harm to our neighbor. I am convinced by the thinkers who affirm that Christians must not go to war and must eschew all violence. We must overcome evil by good and struggle for justice only by nonviolent means.

I am also increasingly convinced that choosing violent measures too often produces "chain reactions of uncontrollable violence." So-called good violence is losing its moral authority and can hardly remain firmly differentiated from bad violence. Only "truthforce" (to use Gandhi's word) and good will toward opponents can end destructive cycles of hate.

Despite what the generals would have us believe, only those willing to suffer and struggle nonviolently can save civilization. The meek will inherit the earth - if proud warriors don't destroy it first.