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Title: A Just War? Hardly
Author: Noam Chomsky
Date: May 9, 2006
Language: en
Topics: US foreign interventions, Iraq War, Afghanistan
Source: Retrieved on 1st October 2021 from https://www.khaleejtimes.com/editorials-columns/a-just-war-hardly
Notes: Published in the Khaleej Times.

Noam Chomsky

A Just War? Hardly

Spurred by these times of invasions and evasions, discussion of “just

war” has had a renaissance among scholars and even among policy-makers.

Concepts aside, actions in the real world all too often reinforce the

maxim of Thucydides that “The strong do as they can, while the weak

suffer what they must” — which is not only indisputably unjust, but at

the present stage of human civilisation, a literal threat to the

survival of the species.

In his highly praised reflections on just war, Michael Walzer describes

the invasion of Afghanistan as “a triumph of just war theory,” standing

alongside Kosovo as a “just war.” Unfortunately, in these two cases, as

throughout, his arguments rely crucially on premises like “seems to me

entirely justified,” or “I believe” or “no doubt.”

Facts are ignored, even the most obvious ones. Consider Afghanistan. As

the bombing began in October 2001, President Bush warned Afghans that it

would continue until they handed over people that the US suspected of

terrorism.

The word “suspected” is important. Eight months later, FBI head Robert

S. Mueller III told editors at The Washington Post that after what must

have been the most intense manhunt in history, “We think the masterminds

of (the Sept. 11 attacks) were in Afghanistan, high in the al-Qaida

leadership. Plotters and others — the principals — came together in

Germany and perhaps elsewhere.”

What was still unclear in June 2002 could not have been known

definitively the preceding October, though few doubted at once that it

was true. Nor did I, for what it’s worth, but surmise and evidence are

two different things. At least it seems fair to say that the

circumstances raise a question about whether bombing Afghans was a

transparent example of “just war.”

Walzer’s arguments are directed to unnamed targets — for example, campus

opponents who are “pacifists.” He adds that their “pacifism” is a “bad

argument,” because he thinks violence is sometimes legitimate. We may

well agree that violence is sometimes legitimate (I do), but “I think”

is hardly an overwhelming argument in the real-world cases that he

discusses.

By “just war,” counterterrorism or some other rationale, the US exempts

itself from the fundamental principles of world order that it played the

primary role in formulating and enacting.

After World War II, a new regime of international law was instituted.

Its provisions on laws of war are codified in the UN Charter, the Geneva

Conventions and the Nuremberg principles, adopted by the General

Assembly. The Charter bars the threat or use of force unless authorized

by the Security Council or, under Article 51, in self-defense against

armed attack until the Security Council acts.

In 2004, a high level UN panel, including, among others, former National

Security Adviser Brent Scowcroft, concluded that “Article 51 needs

neither extension nor restriction of its long-understood scope … In a

world full of perceived potential threats, the risk to the global order

and the norm of nonintervention on which it continues to be based is

simply too great for the legality of unilateral preventive action, as

distinct from collectively endorsed action, to be accepted. Allowing one

to so act is to allow all.”

The National Security Strategy of September 2002, just largely

reiterated in March, grants the US the right to carry out what it calls

“pre-emptive war,” which means not pre-emptive, but “preventive war.”

That’s the right to commit aggression, plain and simple.

In the wording of the Nuremberg Tribunal, aggression is “the supreme

international crime differing only from other war crimes in that it

contains within itself the accumulated evil of the whole” — all the evil

in the tortured land of Iraq that flowed from the US-UK invasion, for

example.

The concept of aggression was defined clearly enough by US Supreme Court

Justice Robert Jackson, who was chief prosecutor for the United States

at Nuremberg. The concept was restated in an authoritative General

Assembly resolution. An “aggressor,” Jackson proposed to the tribunal,

is a state that is the first to commit such actions as “invasion of its

armed forces, with or without a declaration of war, of the territory of

another State.”

That applies to the invasion of Iraq. Also relevant are Justice

Jackson’s eloquent words at Nuremberg: “If certain acts of violation of

treaties are crimes, they are crimes whether the United States does them

or whether Germany does them, and we are not prepared to lay down a rule

of criminal conduct against others which we would not be willing to have

invoked against us.” And elsewhere: “We must never forget that the

record on which we judge these defendants is the record on which history

will judge us tomorrow. To pass these defendants a poisoned chalice is

to put it to our own lips as well.”

For the political leadership, the threat of adherence to these

principles — and to the rule of law in general — is serious indeed. Or

it would be, if anyone dared to defy “the single ruthless superpower

whose leadership intends to shape the world according to its own

forceful world view,” as Reuven Pedatzur wrote in Haaretz last May.

Let me state a couple of simple truths. The first is that actions are

evaluated in terms of the range of likely consequences. A second is the

principle of universality; we apply to ourselves the same standards we

apply to others, if not more stringent ones.

Apart from being the merest truisms, these principles are also the

foundation of just war theory, at least any version of it that deserves

to be taken seriously.