The Paradox of a Just War

As promised, here are two more explanations of Catholic paradoxes. I will hopefully include them in that talk I have rashly vowed to give; and it recently occurred to me that they will also go well in the book which I have not yet made the time to write. Perhaps if I blogged less frequently...

Anyway, the first paradox involves the issue of war. As before, there are two half-truths which can only be containted by a contradiction. War is at once abhorrent, but there are also times in which war is the only answer. As a personal aside, it should be noted that the main reason I initially made the foolish mistake of supporting the Iraq War was that I did not yet understand the importance of paradox. I knew, as all even vaguely religious men must, that life should be cherished and not squandered. If death was not a wholly bad thing, it was surely not something to be brought casually upon another.

At the same time, I could not understand how someone could be so naive as to believe that War Was Never The Answer. There were countless examples from human history in which war did manage to present itself as an answer. Certainly some of these problems flared up again, but it is idiotic to suggest that the best thing the Poles could have done was roll over for the Nazis. Someone had evidently forgotten to mention to the aggressive parties that war was not the answer, as these were really the only groups who needed the reminder.

My instinctual gut reaction to those who failed to recognize the effectivness of war led me to support the other heretical half-truth. There was no doubt that there were times in which war was the only answer. It is always a regretable answer; it should always be the last option. A call to arms can only be glorious when the reason for the call is the enemy's literal presence in one's backyard.

There was no doubt that Saddam was, plainly speaking, not a very nice fellow. If his mother had taught him to share with the other children, he had not retained the lesson, and gruesome habits had taken root where the proddings of his mother evidently had not, including a penchant for murder. Yet, for all his atrocities, Saddam had not attacked the United States or the citizens thereof. That he may have done so is irrelevant. For, as Chesterton succinctly notes, "The only defensible war is a war of defense." If Saddam had marched his army up through Mexico and captured El Paso, having refused to give it back, there wouldn't be any defense for opposing a war to remove him from power.

El Paso remains, like the rest of the union, safely within American hands. (I'm not certain if D.C. is considered occupied territory. My stance on violent revolution has not been thought out as yet. Stay tuned.) The War in Iraq is an immoral war because we were the aggressors. I do not profess a grasp of the state of mind of those who led us to war, but as one who was a follower, I can vouch that most of my fellow foolish supporters had the noblest of intentions. We were going to dethrone a tyrant, strike a blow against terror, lessen the threat to America, free a people and give them democracy to boot. But though our intention was good, our action was not. We have supplanted a tyrant for a democracy that is unstable at best. We have killed millions of citizens--citizens who have done us no harm, and the vast majority of whom would never had done so--in order to save the lives of our own citizens. I do not deny that a government ought to show preference to its people, but it seems strange to murder the citizens of other lands so that we no longer have to worry about showing a preference.

There are as yet some who refuse to see the light, and ultimately believe that a war with Iraq was just. The more honest apologists simply confess a preference for the lesser of two evils. It will be interesting to see if the loyal Republicans are misguided interventionists or simply shallow partisans as a Hillary presidency may give us a Democratic war. I can respect a heretic more than I can respect a liar.

As for the rest, it is not enough that we know that the War in Iraq was immoral; it is imperative that we recognize why this is so. If we take the pacifistic approach, that all war is evil and must never be fought, we will be forced to accept the rule of Might, something the character dubbed King Arthur wisely attempted to avoid. It is also possible that we do not learn at all from Iraq, and instead believe that the only problem with the war was one of feasibility and not of morals. This is equally repugnant. The truth of the matter can only be contained in the aforementioned paradox, and it is only the Catholic Church which professes to guard this truth: that war can and must be fought as a last resort, but in no other case may it be so waged.

As it became obvious that we would soon be going to war, the partisan divide became equally apparent. Democrats opposed intervention because a Republican was in charge, just as they had opposed the wars of Democratic Presidents--that's a joke, by the way, though it's not very funny. Republicans supported it for that same reason: George was their cowboy. The pacifists marched in opposition, as they always do, and the neo-cons cheered for war as they are likewise wont to do.

Amidst the empty shouting from the leaders bereft of principle--but not party--and the small groups whose only principles were not complete, a lone American cried out; a voice in the political wilderness broke the standstill, if only for a moment. Pat Buchanan stated his opposition to the War with Iraq as he had done during the Persian Gulf War; this despite his conservative idealogy, or, properly understood, because of it. For Mr. Buchanan is a fellow citizen, not only of America, but also of Rome, a man who I am honored to call my brother in Christ. Buchanan looked to a Church which had seen a great many wars in her storied history, and she shone forth upon the truth of the matter, as both Pope John Paul II and Benedict XVI emphatically denounced the occupation of Iraq.

It now appears that Mr. Buchanan and the popes were right. Perhaps one day he will get the credit he so deserves. More importantly, perhaps the world will acknowledge the Church for, yet again, getting the matter exactly correct. One frankly doubts it; for they do not know us because they do not know the Man who so founded her.

It is not a coincidence that Chesterton's thought still lives. Buchanan could have lifted his entire
defense from that giant Brit, and it would have sufficed rather nicely. The Church is steadfast and yet she is also timeless. She is "beauty ever ancient, ever new" in the immortal words of St. Augustine. His words ring true.

But I have grown tired, and that, like my second paradox, is another matter for another day.