American Ethics And American War

The Geek wrote this post last August.  Somehow it never got published.  Admittedly there is a reference in the next paragraph which is dated but the overall subject is still timely considering the accusations which have been made regarding the infliction of civilian casualties during Operation Odyssey Dawn.  The agenda driven and the poorly informed as well as the opportunistic and gullible always either peddle or buy the line holding Americans are as kill crazy as a ferret in the chicken house.

Frankly the accusations by Amnesty International to the effect that the US has violated international law and the ethics of warfare by its actions in Yemen (see immediately preceding post) rankle the Geek no end. This short take is a personal note to the tender hearted, high minded, lofty thinking, and historically ignorant lawyerly types at Amnesty International as well as other, similarly inclined NGOs and their sympathizers at the UN.

Just over sixty-five years ago President Franklin Roosevelt was briefed on the planned invasion of Iwo Jima. He was told the island was heavily defended by a large, well dug in defensive force with orders to hold until the last man. The goal of the defenders was to inflict a maximum number of casualties on the American forces with the larger intent of weakening American political will so as to allow an end to the war on terms very favorable to the Japanese.

The president was also told that there were no people on the island other than members of the Imperial Japanese armed forces. No civilians. No dragooned Korean laborers. No "comfort women." It was a pure military target with only soldiers, sailors, and airmen present. Killing them was well within the laws of warfare.

Finally, the president was advised that American fatalities would be very high. Higher even than the hectatombs of Tarawa or Peleliu. The US military high command unanimously held that the best means of attack would be standing off and drenching the island with chemical munitions, particularly the most potent one we had in our arsenal, mustard agent. There was no danger of retaliation. The Japanese had no means and the Germans were effectively defeated at this point.

FDR was told bluntly that using chemical weapons would save thousands of American lives and would not cost one Japanese life more than would be the case with a conventional invasion.

Faced with this stark choice the president said, "No." He would not cross the ethical Rubicon of being the first to use chemical weapons in WW II. (This despite the well documented use of both chemical and biological munitions by the Japanese in China.)

The ethically (or morally) based decision of FDR condemned more than six thousand US Marines to death.

The invasion of Iwo Jima constituted a tribute to human courage and endurance which will reflect glory on the Marines and the country which produced them for generations to come as well as the most famed photograph of World War II for Americans. But, there is no doubt that the men who died as well as their families, friends, indeed, the nation as a whole, would have cheerfully exchanged glory for the lives of those who were killed in the black sands of Iwo Jima.

Mr Roosevelt preserved his moral purity. He, perhaps, protected the ethical integrity of the US. To the president and many others later, during peacetime, with the luxury of considering both ethics and their cost in human lives, the decision was the correct one. And, arguably it was; it did establish a limit during the closing days of a war in which all previous limits had been not only transcended but obliterated.

The Geek has seen no signs that later presidents became any less conscious of ethics as a limiting factor in war. Presidents have made grave mistakes in deciding where and against whom and with what means war must be waged. However, the mistakes have been far more often than not on the side of caution, conservatism, on the side of limiting both the scope of war and the lethality of the means employed.

Get a grip on this, Amnesty: The US is not given to using disproportionate means. It is not given to employing weapons with undue breadth of effect. It is not in the habit of using too much. It is far more common to use too little.

Even though those of Amnesty International love to hate America. Even though they are all members of the Blame America First club, the historical realty, the ground truth, is the US attempts (often without success to be sure) to fight with the least force possible, to kill as few as feasible, to take all due, and many undue precautions to exempt civilians and non-combatants from harm.

Hey, AI, you all may not like it, but that is the nature of history. Get over your chronic inability to see affairs as they actually have been and are.

Predators--The High Tech Knife In The Back

The American public is either supportive of or indifferent to the use of the Predator and Reaper UAVs in the war against Islamist jihadists. But, the indication given a few weeks back by the wave of indignation over the never employed CIA program to kill the same targets up close and personal using human operatives shows the same public would not accept assassinations of the more traditional sort.

A thoughtful--and thought provoking piece from the New Yorker has been posted on Cryptome.

The issues raised by this article are important and deserve wide consideration. Of particular importance is the ethical distinctions between the usual form of killing which requires some close connection between killer and target and the new, stand-off means provided by the UAV.

Assassination, or if you prefer the more sanitary term, targeted killing, is never pleasant. No matter how much the victim may merit this most extreme of sanctions and no matter how much the trigger-puller or knife-wielder agrees with the necessity of the operation, there is always a moment, at least a brief flashing instant, of trepidation before the trigger is pulled or the knife implanted. Or, there is a time afterwards, perhaps long afterwards, after extraction or exfiltration, after debriefing, after the celebratory drink that the pang of regret probes deep and hard in the mind, the heart, the soul. It passes, but its occurrence has the salvation of proving the contact between killer and the killed was fundamentally human in nature.

Of course, it must also be remembered that the killer, again regardless of training and experience, regardless of equipment and support, must take a risk, a very real risk of somehow losing as the encounter occurs. The target may not go willingly and quickly to his death. The sheep may turn into a lion when the ultimate moment comes. Or, his security people may be more alert--or lucky--than anticipated or planned for. Or, something, some little damn thing, goes wrong. Assassination, like war itself, rarely goes perfectly as planned.

The ethical objections raised to the use of UAVs in lieu of the traditional man-in-black seem to focus on the detached, sanitary, inhuman nature of the act. Likewise, the emotional reaction against the use of the tried-and-(Usually) True methods of targeted killing seems to focus on the fact that the act is uniquely human. That it demands one person in a calculated, planned, most cold blooded way take the life of another.

It is ironic to say the least that both proponents and opponents of the UAV in the sky, Hellfires at the ready, emphasize the (in)humanity of the act of killing. The proponent argues that the distance, the remote nature of the button pusher from his target makes the action both more controllable and less risky. The opponent contends that the lack of risk and the remoteness of the killer combine to denature the act of killing from any of the virtues normally associated with men at war such as courage, initiative, determination, and the willingness to place one's life at hazard in the pursuit of national goals.

Another school of argument against the use of UAVs takes a more abstract view. Yet it is still a view anchored in the reality that warfare is a fundamentally human endeavor. This more rarefied argument holds that the lack of risk, the absence of casualties, allows, even encourages a government to use lethal means in support of policy in a hidden way which evades the normal controls and constraints on a president's ability to wage war without let or hinder on the part of the public or congress.

Proponents of the Predator way of war answer that the lack of friendly losses serves to liberate the necessary conduct of policy from artificial limitations imposed by the fear of friendly losses. The UAV is a safe way to neutralize individuals whose existence necessarily presents a clear threat to US national and strategic interests without high cost to the country either in lives or prestige.

There is much merit in this contention. The UAV option does allow the removal of obnoxious personalities without the high visibility of manned air operations or even relatively low signature special forces or black ops. A well conducted UAV strike or campaign of multiple strikes can be conducted without a high profile which automatically invests national prestige with potentially disastrous effects.

The counter is self-evident. A UAV hit is not invisible to the people on the downrange end of it. Since very few such strikes kill only people in real need of killing, the excess deaths will attract attention--and opposition. The UAV is just as likely as a manned airstrike or a misdirected artillery round to create more people hostile to the US than it removes from the game.

Another purely human based argument against the UAV and its attendant bravery of being out of range comes from the cultural reality that it is seen, particularly in tribal and similar societies, as being singularly "unmanly," and thus it rouses more contempt than it generates fear within the recipient population. The result of the bootless cruise missile attacks so beloved by the Clinton administration are illustrative of this contention. They aroused a certainty within the Islamist jihadists of Taliban and al-Qaeda that the Americans were so afraid of dying that they could be defeated by terror.

The cruise missiles were used in order to both punish and deter the Islamist jihadists. That they failed in both missions is obvious. The record to date on the Predators and Reapers is not so clear cut. At least not yet.

The strikes have killed genuine bad guys. There is no doubt but their existence has served to lessen both combat efficiency and morale of the Islamist jihadists to some extent. But, counter measures have already been devised--and posted--by the jihadists. And, the loss of even a major figure such as Baitullah Mehsud had no lasting effect on either the political will or will to combat of the Islamist jihadists.

At the same time there can be no denying that the UAV attacks have killed non-combatants. The figures are soft and contradictory, but at least three hundred civilians have been killed so far this year by Predator strikes in Pakistan. There can be no denying that these unintended deaths have brought with them a swelling of pro-Islamist jihadist sentiments which are real albeit exaggerated by the Pakistan government for its own reasons.

In short, lethal Predator attacks have a utility, a limited one, but quite real. They are a useful tool but no more than that. The same may be said of the traditional approach to carefully targeted killing. Assassination is a tool, a useful one, but limited.

From the perspective of ethics there is no real choice between the two methods. Both have a tinge of distastefulness to the ethically tender. Both reduce war to a form of single combat. In that respect both are preferable to the mass encounter of armed men.

Properly conducted, either method can allow a president to pursue necessary national and strategic interests in a low visibility way which limits but does not eliminate the possibility of invoking national prestige to an undesirable extent. The most essential difference comes in the effects upon the collective mentality of the recipient population.

If the use of UAVs has a counterproductive effect in the way the Clinton administration's cruise missile attacks demonstrated, then the bravery-of-being-out-of-range option must be eschewed no matter how gee whiz attractive it may be. After all, the purpose of assassination either up close and personal or from a distance is to have a positive effect upon the enemy, to cause him to bend to our political will.

The tool has to be matched to the task. As one does not use a sledgehammer to pound in a tack, one does not use a method which produces more enemies than it kills. That is the real criterion for assessing the use of Predators and Reapers in Pakistan or Afghanistan--or anywhere.

The crux of decision making is not which will give a sanitary distance to killing, or which will give the president more options and greater deniability. It is which will have the greater probability of bending the enemy to our political will.