Just
Peace Readings
Introduction
The following collection, "Just Peace
Readings," resulted from a consideration of themes on
reconciliation during the spring 2003 House of Bishops meeting
at the Kanuga Conference Center in North Carolina. At that
time, it was decided that the subjects needed further development
and added detail before being released as teachings.
After a discussion with Presiding Bishop Frank T. Griswold,
I was motivated to compile this work and issue it anyway in
some form because of my speaking engagements on Just War in
a variety of congregations. There, nearly without exception,
the faithful sorted out into three groups: (1) those opposed
to any war at any time; (2) those reasonably sure that the
Bush Administration had made its case for the preliminary
requirements for a just cause for war; (3) those—and
this was the largest group—who were unsure about what
to think.
It was to everyone’s benefit to be activated as informed
citizens, more, to be fully engaged, moral persons. This was
what the Founding Fathers had expected and hoped for: a sovereign
people charged with the destiny of the country.
Providing balanced information, then, was one goal and how
to appreciate all positions through scrupulous and energetic
inquiry was another. To those ends, and as the bishop who
serves the military, I became concerned that Just War was
discounted or misunderstood by church leadership. The “Christian
Realism” of Rheinhold Neibuhr and recently Jean Bethke
Elshtain ought to be equally before us, I thought, as we embrace
the destiny of the Body of Christ as a Peace Church.
But there are more points of view.
The presentation by Dr. Michael Battle was originally the
starting document for this effort and included a helpful history
of the Just War proposition and his sense of its legitimacy,
but also reflections on his relationship with Archbishop Desmond
Tutu on the subject. Archbishop Tutu of course is internationally
known for his seminal contribution to reconciliation during
and after apartheid in South Africa.
Bishop Mark MacDonald of Alaska gave this effort verve and
excitement when he called members of the House of Bishops
to leadership for an American people who seemed to have "lost
their moral imagination." Bishop MacDonald's reflection
concludes this offering.
Lastly, this work is modestly dedicated to the Most Rev. Frank
T. Griswold and Dr. Ian Douglas whose foresight to encourage
an intuitive atmosphere of study of the building blocks of
reconciliation continues to move us forward in God’s
Project.
The Right Reverend George E. Packard
Bishop Suffragan for Chaplaincies
The Episcopal Church Center
Pentecost, 2003
God’s
Mission and War
Bishop George Packard
Is the Just War theory, a set of beliefs and
principles derived from classical philosophy via Saints Augustine
and Thomas Aquinas, still valid for us and for 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 a terrible and disfiguring act
for humankind, making a reasoned evaluation by the faithful
preceding and during battle of the utmost urgency.
Two evaluations are at the forefront of the debate. The first
examines why nations engage in war, while the second explores
the criteria defining how the war is being waged, or 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 and
possibly other agents and civilians close to the events of
battle. Indeed war, though often far removed from us in this
country, cannot be a casual interest because of its functioning
as 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 path when
considering aspects of war. For example, Jewish tradition
has a reference to “righteous arms” and Islamic
belief presents a similar theory 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 facets
of society in which the use of coercive force is necessary,
such as the police or the military.
This background of societal engagement, in addition to an
increasing influence of natural law reasoning, resulted in
the development of the “Just War” theory. The
theory exists today as a 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 need for employing coercive force seems inevitable.
The “hell” of warfare, though a social creation,
tends, as Karl Von Clausewitz wrote, to have no limit and
exists as an evolution toward increasing ruthlessness. General
Dwight D. Eisenhower observed that the only boundary surrounding
war 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. Reality, however,
often makes innocence and isolation impossible. Max Stackhouse
writes, “violence erupts in the midst of history and
sometimes the use of forceful means is necessary to overcome
that violence and reestablish 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 execution of battle. As Christians, we look to the New
Testament for guidance but our Lord says nothing about war,
though references are present: for example, He indirectly
addresses soldiers and likens preparation for battle to making
oneself ready for the Kingdom of God. For a sense of our Lord’s
attitude, we embrace Christ’s message stressing the
preciousness and necessity of redemption for every human being,
his/her inherent dignity and essence in God’s sight,
and the importance of living out a destiny in God’s
service.
Today the questions commonly surrounding just war are at the
forefront of the Church as the world attempts to enforce balances
despite an increasingly volatile global environment. Before
discussing the applicability of just war theory and how it
may or may 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 the call to arms warranted by the 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, the use of the atomic bomb at 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 that existed 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, including the U. S. as a primary,
to prosecute the war. It was noted at the time that because
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, for example,
is allowed in the case of self-defense. When an immediate
attack is underway, much is granted to a society enduring
a plausible threat to its livelihood and very corporate self.
This reveals the originating premise in just war theory: action
may be initiated 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 society, this can be an elusive yet fundamental exercise,
because it is the access to and ultimately the guideline for
future just behavior. 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 in which 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 continues by saying 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. For example,
the firepower employed by the coalition of countries collaborating
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.”
However, it should be noted in fairness that there was considerable
discussion during the air portion of the Gulf War and that
a concerted effort was underway in the “moral”
evaluation of each target. The reality behind those strikes
and the resulting conditions were another matter of course.
Nevertheless, harsh realities are inevitable on and around
the battlefield yet these should not diminish the interest
and energy of those trying to abide by just war standards.
A heightened sense of duty should match heightened levels
of technology and military capability. Keeping moral pace
with the weapons used in an increasingly lethal battlefield
environment should be a rigorous exercise.
Clearly then, the single principle of proportionality bears
special attention in this era and beyond. An axiom develops
within 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, as well
as 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, a portion of the earth has
always been at war. Usually involved are small-scale disputes-
those that are less distinct and fraught with internal variation.
Our current “War on Terrorism” is 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 a 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 prove to be vital as we conceive of pre-emptive responses.
Pre-emptive and Preventative War
Recently, in the midst of the War on Terrorism, debates focusing
on the justness of a pre-emptive and preventative war have
demanded attention. There has always been a precarious philosophy
about preventative war and the balance of power, chiefly because
a shift in power in a seemingly isolated region could lead
to volatility on a much larger scale, resulting in any number
of odd conflicts. Achieving such a balance is difficult and
needlessly delays the formation of a lasting Christian attitude.
The counter response argues that fighting now prevents fighting
later, often 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
preventative military action often rearranges the understanding
of just war to the point of being unrecognizable. (Unless
it is updated as proposed by Jean Bethke Elshtain.) 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
treads dangerously close to a slippery slope, almost sanctioning
the sort of opportunism behind Adolf Hitler’s claiming
“just cause” for the invasion of Poland.
This new era seems to depend upon de-facto “packaging”
of the just war convention for contemporary application with
inconclusive results. Is there not 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 made 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
In his essay, “Just War Tradition: Is It Credible?”
John Howard Yoder provides much insight into the limitations
of just war theory. 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 learning which facts
and what information are truly available. Despite the earnestness
in this pursuit, it does nevertheless present 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. Bosnian War correspondent Chris Hedges once
said, “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.” Information control severely restricts a population
from any just war exercise, a truth that has been demonstrated
many times over. The conflicts created as an administration
prepares for war are 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 also makes a potent observation about just war.
He calls it an “essential moral dimension for statecraft
in the modern world.” But what of how certain states
deceive themselves, seizing the high moral ground and “thereby
suffering from illusions about their own righteousness?”
Earnest conversation about just war has never prevented a
war, rather the just war convention has most often served
as a means for inquiry and moral reflection. For example,
societies on the verge of conflict must ask themselves the
following:
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?
Will these targets have an impact on the civilian population
and will those choices hamper recovery after the conflict?
These questions are continuously posed throughout a society’s
sense of itself in war, not only in the preparation period.
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, one 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.
The
Mission of a Nonviolent Church
Michael Battle
Making Sense of Just War
The evolution of the Just War theory has its roots in classical
antiquity. Plato formulated a code of just war, while Aristotle
later provided the term. Plato, confronted with atrocities
during the wars between the Ptolemaic city states, was troubled
by the thought that the Greeks would eventually be destroyed
by civil war. He helped to establish the parameters within
which rational people would wage war as the ultimate way of
settling disputes. A just war, by definition, was one meant
to vindicate justice and restore peace. Beyond Plato and Aristotle,
just war theory can be traced back to the influential Roman
orator and statesman, Cicero (d. 43 BC). Ambrose of Milan
(c. 339-397) introduced Cicero’s ideas into Christian
theology and subsequent church fathers like Augustine and
Aquinas further developed just war theology as a part of the
Christian ethos, while Luther and Calvin carried them into
the Protestant Reformation. Pacifism, as a Christian doctrine,
was enacted later through church groups such as Anabaptist
and Quakers. Despite their similarities, each of these groups
gave different emphases to understandings of nonviolence.
These marginalized groups represent important variations in
the historical tradition of the Church that has at times operated
firmly in the service of its rulers and at other times struggled
to distance itself from oppressive heads by asserting a liberative
tradition.
In Christian history then, three primary attitudes existed
concerning war: pacifism, just war and holy war. This variety
can be linked to Our Lord never making a specific statement
on war; he addressed soldiers concerning their professions
and used a military reference in a parable, but the summation
of thought on the subject is inferred from Jesus’ adamant
insistence on the dignity of every human being, i.e. loving
one’s neighbor as oneself, and the equally resolute
message that peacemaker’s are to be blessed. The early
Church, persecuted by a pagan state, was pacifist until the
time of Constantine during the Fourth Century when, as a result
of the 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 Christian elements to understanding
just war.1
The motive for war, it was believed, should be love
(clergy were at first exempt from fighting until the advent
of the Crusades during the Middle Ages).
Just War seems to have become an official Church doctrine
during the rise of Renaissance Italy’s city-states.
Perhaps the chief justification for war came about during
the Reformation that precipitated the wars on religion. Anglicans
and Lutherans, for example, accepted just war and by and large
still do today. As the Church grew complicit with colonization
in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth centuries, the interpretation
of peace among nation states changed on the basis of European
churches’ influence in outlining the definition and
requirements concerning peace around the world. The Twentieth
Century was marked by two world wars that forced the Church’s
three positions of just war, pacifism, and holy war to resurface
again, but in an entirely different way. And now, the Twenty-First
Century is about to commence a third world war. In light of
this tragic history, Archbishop Desmond Tutu is helpful in
describing his own confusion:
There is much puzzlement in the black community.
Not only did the west go to war with the approval of the church,
it lauded to the skies the Underground Resistance movement
during World War II and regarded a Dietrich Bonhoeffer as
a modern day Christian martyr and saint (and I believe rightly)
even though he was involved in a plot to assassinate Hitler,
the head of his home country for which involvement he was
executed. Most western countries have their history written
in blood. The USA became independent after the thirteen colonies
had fought the American War of Independence. But when it comes
to the matter of black liberation the west and most of its
church wake up and find themselves gone all pacifist. 2
________________________________
1
It is interesting that Augustine
said that justice was nothing but robbery on a large scale.
Conditions of just war are also in Summa thrologia of Aquinas:
Legitimate authority by due and solemn warning, self defense,
restoration of justice, punishment for justice, a just cause
(end result will justify evil means).
2
Tutu, Addresses "Violence and the Church",
June 1987.
Desmond Tutu and Just War
Tutu seems to be an adherent of Just War theory.
My being a disciple of Tutu while remaining a pacifist, I
always found this to be a disturbing position by Tutu. Upon
more discussion, however, perhaps the reader may make sense
of how Tutu’s position makes sense in light of the tragic
situation of apartheid South Africa. We will see firsthand
how Tutu comes to this position in light of his time and setting
of apartheid South Africa. Tutu constantly illustrates his
efforts of seeking nonviolence but often found himself feeling
as though there was little alternative to changing those who
controlled an apartheid state than through use of violence.
Tutu explains:
And yet how strident is the opposition overwhelmingly
from whites to economic sanctions. We blacks cannot vote.
Now we must not invoke the non-violent methods which are likely
to be the most effective. Then what is left? If sanctions
should not be allowed or being applied, fail, then there is
no other way left but to fight for the right to be human and
to be treated as such. Can someone show us a different conclusion?3
It is in this quote that the reader finds the
summation of Tutu’s Christian realism in that the full
acknowledgement is made that nonviolence is the Christian
norm, however, how does one translate this norm into a hostile
world? Other evidence of Tutu’s acceptance of the legitimate
use of force comes through his following statements:
Should the West fail to impose economic
sanctions, it would then be justifiable in my view for blacks
to try to overthrow an unjust system violently. But I myself
am committed to the way of bringing an end to this tyranny
by peaceful means. Should this option fail, the low-intensity
civil war I referred to at the beginning of this essay will
escalate into a full-scale war.4
Although I am a disciple of Tutu, I believe
that in Christian spirituality, any conceptualization of just
war is anachronistic if we are to unlearn the self-fulfilling
prophecy of violence. This requires Christians to constantly
practice peace. In other words, talk of just war originally
meant something much different than the way we want to use
it today. Indeed, no debate about just war has prevented a
war, rather it calls all involved to a conversation and the
review of a moral checklist. Theologically, the early church
expected God’s kingdom to dawn imminently amidst the
world, it faced a hostile government that sought to eradicate
Christianity as a subversive influence in the Roman Empire.
For early Christians the pertinent question was whether or
not to take up arms, either in self-defense or in the service
of the state. In the post Constantinian era, on the other
hand, Christians readily fought for the Empire under the insignia
of Christ. The theological question had changed to what constituted
a just war. This theological question has never been answered
because how could any Christian formed in the Sermon on the
Mount envision a constitution of just war? Christians are
formed to make peace, and as Tutu believes, “Peace is
achieved through active cooperation.”5
A theological imperative was the establishment of criteria
in terms of which a distinction could be made between wars
with a just cause and end, and wars of material greed, national
pride, vindictiveness, power and the like. Paraphrasing
Aquinas, Tutu provides the criteria for just war:
We try to use the very strict set of criteria that we
use to determine when it would be justifiable for Christians
to go to war, the so called ‘just war’ theory.
. . . According [to just war theory] once the criteria have
been satisfied, e.g. have all other nonviolent means been
exhausted, is the cause just, are the prospects of success
good, will the situation that results be better than that
which it is intended to replace, are the methods just, in
the case of war, will every effort be made to ensure that
innocent civilians are not unnecessarily injured and the war
is to be declared by a competent authority?)6
And soon a related question emerged concerning
the responsibility of Christians regarding tyrannical rule:
To what extent were they permitted or obligated as Christians
to resort to arms to remove the tyrant? For example, young
white males (usually English speaking white males) asked whether
it was theological legitimate for them to fight in the South
African Defense Force since it was involved in the military
occupation of Namibia, cross-border raids and war in the townships.
These young white males articulated their protest against
being drafted into the South African Defense Force in terms
of traditional just war theory. Regarding this matter, Tutu
states:
Many resisters, for their part understood
how the South African Defense Force was used as a military
police within our townships and neighborhoods, and understood
the strategic importance of creating an alternative within
their ranks . . . People - and young people specifically -
are less and less willing to be used as cannon fodder, fighting
to uphold corporate interests or the rule of the elites. .
. . the gap between the countries of the south and north -
in areas of wealth, education, health care, etc. - seems only
to widen. And understanding of this gap, and its economic
and colonial origins, can only help us to formulate solidarity
and create a more cooperative internationalism. The children
of war, through their networking, summits, and informal dialogues,
have already begun this process. We are called upon to follow
their lead.7
In other words, the problem of defining a just
use of violence depended on who is interpreted as oppressor
and victim—as terrorist or freedom fighter. After all,
President Nelson Mandela was once described as a terrorist
and even
went to prison under what was known in South Africa as the
Terrorist Act to protect the State.
______________________________
3
Tutu, Addresses "Violence and the Church," June
1987
4
Tutu, "freedom Fighters or Terrprists?"
p.77; Tutu, Addresses "Violence and the Church,"
June 1987
5
Tutu, Foreward, A Gift of Peace, John Hartom
& Lisa Blackburn (eds.) Imagine Render, Michigan Art Education
Association
6
Tutu, Addresses "Violence
and the Church," June 1987
7Tutu,
draft of Forward for 1993 Children of War Peace Calendar,
War Resisters League, March 13, 1992
A Rebuttal to Just War
What is terrorism? Terrorism according to the U.S. Department
of Defense is the unlawful use of force against individuals
or property with intention of intimidating societies for ideological
purposes. This definition assumes that wars can be fought
by States only. But one person's terrorism is another's martyrdom.
For example, what constitutes terrorism, guerilla war fare,
or legitimate defense? Tutu explains further.
The USA supports quite vigorously those called Contras
in Nicaragua who seek to overthrow a valid government legally
decked in what independent observers considered to be free
and fair elections. The Reagan administration also supports
Dr Jonas Savimbi and his Unita forces which are bent on toppling
the MPLA Luanda government.8
Tutu’s insight in Western bias raises
the interesting question, when Christians go to war, what
are we defending? The answer usually leaves Christians embarrassed,
especially if such Christians are committed to the spirituality
of the church in which the formation of community is essential.
In Christian spirituality, there can be no conditional obedience
to the principle of violence. Just war assumes one can separate
the difference between non-combatants from combatants on the
basis of universal evils, but without universal criteria for
good and evil there is no way to respond to moral anarchy
in war situations. In other words, a double standard morality
always exists in just war criteria. Even advocates of just
war acknowledge this failing, relying instead on the necessity
of taking a stand in ambiguous situations for the common good.
As Bishop Packard said during debate of the October resolution
in Cleveland, “just war is sometimes the best, worst
case scenario before us on the way to the Kingdom.”
Christian ethicists, such as Stanley Hauerwas, disagree with
a methodology by which to adjudicate universal evils. In other
words, Christians respond in war situations, not on the basis
of universal principles of what is right or wrong or on the
basis of assuming a liberal ideal of freeing a world of war,
but on the basis of the Christian way of life determined by
the church. In addition, in the Twentieth and Twenty-first
centuries, the church and the world face nuclear, atmospheric,
and biological war which threatens all of creation. How could
such war ever be justified? The church determines a response
of nonviolence because of the Collect first read in the beginning
of this chapter. The church does not respond on the basis
of universal evils espoused in just war theory. As Christians
we are a particular kind of people with particular behaviors
that should always increase community. Therefore, when one
determines a spirituality of war or peace what is determined
is a particular spirituality in which faith commitments are
made explicit. Is there an explicit commitment to community
as taught and practiced by Jesus? If so, we return to the
original question of this paragraph: When Christians go to
war, what are defending? Is it that we are defending the justice
of the individual in the western world? As Hauerwas teaches
us, “People don't go to war because of their evil but
because of their loves.” And we, in the western world,
love our individual selves the most. For the church, however,
to practice peace we must realize that our main love and obligation
is to a person who would rather be crucified than take up
arms; herein, is our difficulty to live peaceably in a world
at war.
For Hauerwas, the difficulty is to live peaceably in a world
at war. It is difficult to live peaceably because our loves
give slant to our vision as to how to behave in the world.
Our loves create national interests and motivations for war.
In addition, our loves perpetuate the double-standard methodology
of believing in justice for all while all along justice is
practiced by those in power. Tutu displays the double standard
in the following way.
Many have called on the ANC to renounce
violence and have not directed similar demands to the South
African government which has destabilized the neighboring
countries. Is it because the perpetrators are white and the
victims of injustice black that this selective morality holds
sway?9
People don't go to war because of their evil but because of
their loves. Herein is the problem with just war theory, namely
it creates a different set of criteria for what Christian
spirituality looks like from what Jesus teaches us in the
Sermon on the Mount. For Jesus, the spiritual person is indeed
in the world, helping the world to practice peacemaking, meekness,
purity, and the Kingdom of God. For those who think Jesus’
Sermon on the Mount is idealistic or irrelevant, their criteria
for living in the world is usually about what is best for
the survival of the individual; and therefore, heroism becomes
the world’s chief virtue. We learn from Hauerwas, however,
that the problem with heroism is that its unpredictable and
successful wars cannot be fought this way. Heroism is an example
of ordinary soldiers having the opportunity to shine through
as heroes. You should never fight wars for ideals because
then they become limitless. The problem with democracies is
that you have citizen soldiers who do not know how to fight
limited wars. In war, there is an organic escalation in which
you have moral adjudication lacking in a people incapable
of fighting a realist war.
So far I have presented a short discussion of the rationale
of violence in the Western church and a counter argument to
such a rationale. The discussion has not been easy for me
to objectify since I am an advocate of unequivocal nonviolence
and believe such a position is the essence of the practice
of Christian spirituality. As I have tried to show, however,
such a position of unequivocal nonviolence is not assumed
by all Christians. And more difficult for me to consider,
unequivocal nonviolence is not the position of some I consider
saints, such as Desmond Tutu:
Is Violence Justifiable to Topple an Unjust
System? I am theologically conservative and traditional. I
think the dominant position of my church regarding violence
is this: We regard all violence as evil (the violence of an
unjust system such as apartheid and the violence of those
who seek to overthrow it). That is why we have condemned ‘necklacing’
and car bombs, as well as instances of violence perpetrated
by the government and the security forces. This does not mean,
however, that the mainstream tradition of the church does
not reluctantly allow that violence may in certain situations
be necessary. The just war theory . . . makes this point clearly.10
As I have mentioned, his position on the legitimate
use of force challenges what is at the heart of my perception
of Christian spirituality. Tutu’s vital leadership in
South Africa’s history when there could be no official
black leadership forced him into being the sole voice able
to articulate pluralism and individual rights the corrupt
public discourse of South Africa at that time. In light of
the oppressive and exclusivist discourse of apartheid, Tutu’s
ecclesiology readily accepts pluralist tendencies. Tutu states:
One of the first things we should acknowledge
is the cultural, religious, and racial pluralism of our day.
Consequently, we must be as a Church, as Christians, to make
our contribution to the establishment of democracy as part
of a cooperative venture. The days are past when we operated
as if we were the only pebbles on the beach. It was exhilarating
for us in South Africa when we marched in Cape Town in September
of 1989 to walk with arms linked with a Jewish rabbi on one
side and a Muslim imam on the other. That united front forged
between peoples of different faiths and ideologies made us
more robust as we faced a formidable adversary in the brutal
apartheid regime. We must build coalitions and forge alliances.
We as Christians should also know that we cannot produce a
constitutional blueprint which can be stamped as Christian
par excellence. We can say that there is a broad spectrum
of options ranging from those barely enshrining the values
of the kingdom of God to those which most nearly embody those
values and principles.11
In other words, in order to understand Tutu’s
position of just war one must be fully located in the context
of South African apartheid. One must then ask the following
question: to what extent could a spirituality of nonviolence
become intelligible in an apartheid society? For example,
in the South African context, Tutu states:
The elimination of violence is directly related to the
elimination of state and institutional oppression. This is
seen nowhere more clearly than in a rare exchange of views
between P.W. Botha and Nelson Mandela in 1985. Botha offered
Mandela his freedom on condition that he rejects violence
as a political instrument. ‘I am surprised at the conditions
that the government wants to impose on me,’ Mandela
replied. ‘It was only when all other forms of resistance
were no longer open to us that we turned to armed struggle.
Let Botha show that he is different to Malan, Strijdom and
Verwoerd. Let him say he will dismantle apartheid . . . Let
him guarantee free political activity so that the people may
decide who will govern them.’12
For Tutu, it is not so much a question of his
own acknowledgment of a spirituality of nonviolence which
he in fact maintains, it became more of a question of being
a responsible hybrid leader of spirituality and politics in
the tragic circumstances of apartheid South Africa in which
the only world view was at times was the need to defend the
dignity of humanity. Tutu’s genius was in showing that
the primary violence in South Africa was the violence of apartheid,
a context in which he was called upon to lead nonviolently,
although realistically.13
Tutu states:
We must be clear in our stance about violence.
The primary violence is apartheid. The Government and its
supporters provide the primary violence and terrorism in South
Africa. But there is the violence on our side. I myself condemn
all violence as always evil, but I hold too that there may
come a time when it would be justifiable to use violence to
overthrow an unjust regime. That is the traditional and conservative
position of the church. We must prepare people to be disciplined
in nonviolent action, to disobey unjust laws.14
Having been a student of Tutu’s for about
fifteen years now, I am only now beginning to make sense of
his complex positions on just war. This is complex because
I believe Tutu to be de facto a nonviolent resister and yet
a public Christian realist.
Tutu believes there are “remarkable” Christians
who believe that no one is ever justified in using violence,
even against the most horrendous evil. These are “pacifists”
who believe that the Gospel of Cross effectively rules out
anyone taking up the sword however just the cause. We hear
this in Tutu own words. “I admire these persons.”
Tutu states, but “Sadly, I must confess that I am made
of far less noble stuff.”15
“I am not in Gandhi’s league.”16
“I am a lover of peace and I try to work for justice
because only thus do I believe we could ever hope to establish
a durable peace.”17
Tutu cites the creation narratives of God creating human beings
in God’s own image, i.e., freedom which is an indispensable
ingredient of moral responsibility. For Tutu, Jesus always
challenges persons to opt to follow Him or desert Him, to
obey Him or reject Him. Persons are not robots. In this light,
Tutu refers to the parable of the prodigal son whose conscience
did develop, although slowly, and needed not to be violated
in its development. So, too, St. Paul teaches us in the New
Testament that one should allow the ongoing development of
conscience concerning foods offered to idols. Paul teaches
that those who are wise know de facto there are no such things
as idols (i.e. idolatry is that which mimics the truth of
God) and so can eat this food without spiritual defilement
(1 Corinthians 8). There are others, however, for who to eat
is to violate their conscience and so to sin. Spiritual decisions
are based as far as possible on a sound understanding of all
the factors that are relevant to the subject under review.
This is why spiritual direction becomes a crucial practice
of peacemaking.
It is from such Biblical exegesis that Tutu comes to understand
how one can understand the use of violence on a nation state
level. One cannot impose spiritual growth on communities;
instead, like the prodigal son, one must allow spiritual maturity
to develop naturally and in due season. More specifically,
this exegesis applies to his position on conscientious objection
in the following way. Tutu believes, based on the above rationale
of the freedom of development, that space and time must always
be allowed for Christian maturity. For Tutu, this means that
there is a legitimate Christian principle that persons are
obliged to obey one’s conscience. This legitimacy is
modeled in most normal democratic countries where conscription
obtains provision and where space and time is made for conscientious
objectors by the provision of an alternative form of national
service.18
So, for Tutu, just war is intelligible as it hinges on the
conscience of a person’s development; such a conscience,
however, must be intense enough to deal with the reality and
inevitability of violence.
Before one concludes entirely that Tutu is a just warrior,
one must fully understand Tutu’s theological assumptions
as I have tried to do through Tutu’s Biblical exegesis
of spiritual growth. More particularly, such an understanding
of spiritual growth for Tutu depends upon the character of
the community in which the Christian individual is to grow.
Tutu explains:
Trying to make sense of the experience of
a particular and definite community of believers in the light
of God’s revelation of who He is, the cardinal reference
point being the man Jesus Christ. Engaged theology is one
done with passion and sometimes not paying too much attention
to the niceties and delicacies. . . . Why you see, what you
apprehend, depends so much on who you are, on where you are.
. . . When blacks -- after many years during which their cautious
protest was consistently ignored -- opted in desperation for
armed struggle, whites dubbed them ‘terrorists,’
which meant they could be ruthlessly imprisoned, hanged or
shot. The will to be free is not, however, defeated by even
the worst kind of violence. Such repressive violence has only
succeeded in throwing South Africa into a low-intensity civil
war which threatens to escalate into a high-intensity war.19
How then does one make sense of a saint like
Desmond Tutu and his apparent avowal that just war is sometimes
necessary? Despite the obvious answer that such sense has
been commonly assumed as St. Augustine and St. Ambrose also
espouse just war, I think one makes such sense through our
Christian practices of being the church.
Regarding the unique role of the church in a violent world,
Tutu states,
The Church must face up to the possibility
that it may die in this struggle, but what of that? Did our
Lord and Master not tell of a seed that will remain alone
unless it falls to the ground and dies (John 12:24)? We can
never have an Easter without a Good Friday: there can be no
Resurrection without a Crucifixion and death.20
Tutu’s belief that Christians need space
and time to grow is what gives him his vision for how post
apartheid South Africa is to proceed. They are to proceed
in the vision of God’s image of peace. And although
South Africans may be like the blind that Jesus healed whose
vision slowly increased with clarity and was not instantaneous,
South Africa is now on the brink of coming to its senses like
the prodigal son who turned back in the direction of his father’s
direction. We are to understand such direction toward God.
Tutu concludes:
I believe in that great liberator God of
the Exodus and of Calvary and so I have no doubt at all that
we shall be free in South Africa, black and white, for it
is God’s intention which cannot be frustrated forever
and a new South Africa will emerge, truly democratic, nonracial
and just where all, black and white, will be seen as of infinite
value because all, black and white, are created in God’s
image; all, black and white, will strive to dwell amicably
together as brothers and sisters as members of one family,
the human family, God’s family. And for this cause I
am ready to give even my life.21
How we can participate in God’s mission
of reconciliation and restoration in the face of violence
and war? A simple answer to this question is that Christians
need to physically travel to the economically developing world
to develop friendships and relationships with other human
beings so as to move these discussions out of the realm of
theory and into the practice love. Simply going there makes
the difference. (There is a corollary to this for those who
will never travel overseas. It is to become aware of their
world citizenship and the consequences of preoccupied consumerism
and how we participate in a supremely inter-dependent globe.
We do not live that truth in our nation.)
POSSIBILITIES FOR ENGAGEMENT AT THE PERSONAL,
COMMUNAL AND GLOBAL LEVELS FOR ALL EPISCOPALIANS:
1. How do you invest your money and does your
portfolio take social responsibility into account? 1.
A. Have you taken an inventory of some items your family consumes,
as compared with a family in the Third World?
2. Have you traveled outside of the Western World?
3. Do you any friends in the United States on welfare? Or
unemployed?
4. Do you know the Episcopal Church’s positions on the
following: Death Penalty? Economic Debt of nonwestern Countries?
War with Iraq?
_______________________________
8
Tutu, "Freedom Fighters or Terrorists?"
pp. 73-74
9
Tutu, Addresses "Violence and the Church,
" June 1987
10
Tutu, "Freedom Fighters or Terrorists?"
p. 76
11
Tutu: "Postscript: To Be Human Is To Be
Free," p. 314
12
Weekly Mail
article quoted in Villa Vincencio, 99
13
Tutu, Preamble," p. 11. see also "Evolution
of Apartheid," p. 10; "Why We Must Oppose Apartheid,
"
14
Tutu, "Koinonia II"
15
Tutu, Addresses "Violence
and the Church," June 1987
16
Ingram, p. 279
17
Tutu, Addresses "Violence and the Church,"
June 1987
18
Tutu, Handwritten Undated Address,
"Conscientious Objection," Tutu testifies before
Court Martial.
20
Tutu, "God's Strength - In Human Weakness,"
p. 23
21
Tutu, Addresses "Violence and theChurch," June 1987
Peacemakers:
Our Gospel Vocation
Bishop Mark MacDonald
At a time when many Christians feel helpless
in the face of wars and military confrontation around the
world, it is important that we recall our deep roots in making
peace from the margins. History is witness to surprising moments
of creativity and impact by peacemakers who were far from
global or national the centers of policy and power.
The Church is more and more removed from its identification
with the dominant culture in the West. Living apart from the
institutional privileges and preoccupations of Western Christendom,
it may shock us to remember that Nonviolence is the default
position of the Gospel. A cloud of peacemaking witnesses --
the Early Church, St. Francis, Gandhi, Martin Luther King,
Jr., all inspired by the example and teachings of Jesus –
have shown us something of the character and possibility of
Gospel living. It is striking that the power and impact of
their work seems to be in inverse proportion to their access
to Governmental policy and power. Their example, in our context,
serves as a call for us to become a community of the Gospel,
a community of courage and moral imagination, a community
of peacemakers.
Peace Making: A Gospel Call
“Peace” is the first word of the Gospel. In the
instructions of Jesus (Luke. 10:1-12), a moment of peacemaking
is the Gospel’s first touch, “Peace be with you!”
For the Early Church, peacemaking was the essential manifestation
of the reconciliation offered to the world in the crucifixion
and resurrection of the Only Child of God. In us, peacemaking
is the Good News made flesh, the indispensable mark of a life
touched by God.
Since a commitment to peace and reconciliation is such a central
part of Christian proclamation and identity, nonviolence has
always been a necessary companion of the Gospel. Despite the
many contradictions we may find of this ideal in history,
we have never been able to escape its logic. Nonviolence is,
after all, a point that the Saints have reiterated in their
own blood.
It is significant that, though clearly dedicated to peace,
the great peacemaking saints are conspicuously silent regarding
the concept of a “Just War.” As with military
service, they place the “Just War”22
discussion in brackets. Though it may be a necessary and moral
conversation for the nations that are faced with war, for
peacemakers, it is a parsing of evil- appearing as a preoccupation
that might beckon the peacemaker from the central task.
Additionally, the Gospel called the peacemaking saints to
a level of consciousness and action quite apart from the goals
and means of the nations. It is at this level that we find
the peacemakers’ effectiveness, as well as where we
find our horizon as peacemakers. The saints were far from
powerless- their power was the Gospel’s ability to speak
to the moral imagination of the nations. Similarly, this power
lends both the potential and the challenge to our peacemaking
efforts.
A Community of Courage and Moral Imagination
The peacemaking saints formed communities of great courage
and extraordinary moral imagination. Inspired by their witness
and success, we must give an account of their peacemaking
power. There are a number of aspects of their peace making
that seem especially relevant to our time and Church:
Peacemaking on the Margins
The Gospel life is a conversion that moves us away from the
powers that hold sway over the nations and lead them to war.
The peacemaker replaces the greed for wealth and lust for
power with a Cross-formed concern for all of God’s creation,
especially the poor and oppressed. The Gospel is, therefore,
a call to the margins of society. In the margins, we follow
Jesus outside the Gate (Heb. 13:12-13). In that place of surprising
blessedness, the words of the Sermon on the Mount become reality.
The poor are blessed and peacemakers are called the children
of God. The character of peace is revealed; it is more than
the avoidance of violence, it is the life and vitality of
justice and compassion.
The move to marginality is not a retreat to pious impotence.
Though far from the centers of political power and policy,
past peacemakers made an impact that still speaks to us today.
One could even argue that their lack of access to governmental
power was the necessary platform for their work. Their marginal
status forced creativity in meeting the issues surrounding
conflict and reconciliation and created a non-partisan position
of advantage in the attempt to speak the truth in love to
violent power. Most important of all, it gave a world-changing
opportunity to serve the poor and outcast.
Concern for the Poor
Concern for the poor is a fundamental commitment and necessary
condition of making peace. Peacemaking finds its authentication
in justice for the margins: if the poor rejoice, peace is
really at hand.
Wealth and power, say the Saints, hinder our ability to perceive
both the central spiritual reality of life and physical reality
of the poor. Since they believe that the well being of the
poor is essential for peace, the capacity to see the margins
of life is the key to effectiveness for peacemaking. Mercy
and almsgiving are at every level and, therefore, a fundamental
element of spiritual formation. To seek Jesus is to see the
poor.
Conspicuous and gracious hospitality is to be extended to
all people, but especially to those marginalized by greed
and power. Peacemaking communities give a compassionate priority
of attention to the poor, the outcast, and the stranger. To
truly welcome the stranger, they must confront, individually
and corporately, the tendency of wealth and power to warp
spiritual perception, smother the fire of love, and wound
the power of peace.
Realism and Courage
Though their commitment to nonviolence may appear to be otherworldly
and unrealistic, the peacemakers display a remarkable realism
about the deep human capacity for war- they are not softheaded
idealists. Acutely aware of the inevitability of violence,
they are even more acutely aware of the price that must be
paid to end it as well as its related suffering. Refusing
to scapegoat the military for the virus of human hatred that
leads to violence, the peacemakers bear the responsibility
for peace to its ultimate sacrifice. The implicit call to
courage is clear: as Gandhi pointed out, nonviolence and cowardice
are incompatible.
This courage is a special requirement when peacemakers express
their conviction that justice for the poor and the outcast
is the absolute requirement of peace. This priority is often
seen by power and wealth as the most unnecessary and subversive
part of the peacemakers’ program. Concern for the poor
is one of the most dangerous aspects of peacemaking.
Finding The Cross
The Cross of Christ, as the Scriptures remind us, unmasked
the powers of death and the evil that corrupt the best intentions
of humanity. In their unmasking, they are disabled (Col. 3:15).
Each of the peacemakers found the “Cross” of their
day, that symbolic but very real place where the corruption
of life is revealed and ended. For St. Francis, the Cross
was in the contrast of a lifestyle of conspicuous consumption
and a life of simplicity. For Gandhi, it was salt and cloth.
For Rosa Parks, it was a seat on the bus. This imaginative
discovery of the primary symbolic place of conflict and evil
power may lead to confrontation and death, but it will also
lead to life. Peacemaking communities discern the Cross in
their time and place with prayer, imagination, and courage.
Love of the Enemy, Paying the Price
of Peace
The spirituality of the Early Church focused on love of the
enemy.23
The first Christians made prayers for the enemy a central
theme of their personal and public worship, all the while
making the effort to humanize an enemy a primary concern.
Humanizing an enemy, of course, requires a great deal of imagination
and courage, for love of the enemy is as necessary for peacemaking
as is concern for the poor. (We see a careful and compassionate
relationship with the “enemy” cultivated all the
way from the central teachings of Jesus to Gandhi’s
artfully grafted relationship with the British Empire.)
The commitment to nonviolence requires that the peacemaker
must be willing to pay a one-sided price for reconciliation.
Even if it leads to death, it is a cost that the peacemaker
will not allow the enemy to bear. The Saints’ witness
in this matter has a clarity that startles: a great deal of
the power to make peace comes from the willingness to suffer
sacrificially for those you might in other ways be quite willing
to hate.
The Goal of Peacemaking: Finding the
Truth in the Transformation of Relationships
The goal of the peacemaker’s imaginative approach to
conflict is “Truth.” This Truth is found not in
the triumph of one position over another, but in the liberation
of all in a process of mutual conversion and revelation. Gandhi
said, “A non-violent revolution is not a program of
seizure of power. It is a program of transformation of relationships,
ending in a peaceful transfer of power.”
In our day, nonviolence is often equated with certain of its
more dramatic (and only sometimes successful) modern tactics:
fasting, marching, and strikes. Nonviolence is reduced in
this conception to a tool that may be helpful in certain situations
to obtain a particular political end. As a form of passive
resistance, however, these tactics are correctly considered
limited in their potential for successful application. A poor
caricature of the nonviolence practiced by the peacemaking
saints, these tools can be used to serve the “wedge”
politics that are so prevalent in our time. As such, they
move us farther away from the goal of peacemaking.
If the transfer of power from one group to another does not
address the deeper structures of oppression and violence in
the relationships of the groups involved, it may amplify the
power and evil of those structures. Proceeding with an awareness
of their own weakness in knowledge and morality, peacemakers
follow a pattern of life, thought, and political action that
will allow the structures that perpetuate violence and oppression
to change.
Nonviolence, as a way of life, involves an uncompromising
commitment to Truth in the form of a devotion that a group
or individual holds in a conflict and never abandons due to
human weakness, whether in fear for personal safety or in
greed for temporary political advantage. To truly be effective,
however, there must be a corresponding strength of commitment
to the principle that all Truth can never be held in one political
position, however righteous. The peacemaker saints demonstrate
that personal and political humility is the door to effective
peacemaking and that nonviolence is clearly not about expressing
moral outrage or superiority, but creating the possibility
of peace.
Though they had dedicated their lives to peace, the great
peacemakers knew that they were not a step above the passions
that lead to war. They were generally apart from the political
structures that make war, but they emphasized that they were
not above it in judgment. Personal awareness and identification
with the passions that lead to war is a fundamental to the
spiritual formation of a peacemaker, as well as a necessary
companion to love of the enemy and a precondition for the
transformation of relationships that lead to real peace.
Becoming a Community of Peacemakers
The habits of our relationships with political power in the
past hinder the imagination that must be brought to our contemporary
situation. Our institutional and individual comfort with wealth
and power are chains on a faith that is called to liberate
the world. Though there are many challenges to our becoming
a community of peacemakers, these are the most significant.
Yet, the urgency of our situation can hardly be denied. If
we do not rise to this hour in human history, can we seriously
claim to be a community formed by the Gospel? Even as we recognize
the poverty of our capabilities in the face of such urgent
needs, the Gospel breaks open the imagination and faith that
will be required to be peacemakers in our time.
Within the broad diversity of our family of faith, there will
need to be an equally wide expanse of responses. A lack of
uniformity in our approach to nonviolence should not hinder
or discourage us. The teachings of the Early Church and St.
Francis show us some different possibilities. For example,
the diversity of St. Francis’ Three Orders within the
Franciscan family demonstrates how different people may respond
on different levels to the same ideals. This diversity of
response became a principle of great evangelical strength,
within the Early Church and among the Franciscans. The evangelical
ideals of the Gospel, especially the call to live a life of
peacemaking, have captured the hearts and minds of so many
throughout history. They are accessible and inspirational
in the every day life of common men and women and in the extraordinary
witness of the Saints.
The Gospel, as all the Peacemaking Saints tell us, is the
place to begin. We must stop and listen. In the context of
the needs of our world, we can be certain that it will call
us to a new life and a new world.
____________________________
22
In recent times, many Christians have questioned
whether the Just War debate contirbutes in any substantive
way to halting the spread of war or modulating its horrendus
cost in human life.
23
As historian Alan Krieder tells us in his amazing
book, Worship and Evangelism in Pre-Christendom (Grove,
Cambridge, 1995, Chapter 2, p. 7)
NOTES ON THE CONTRIBUTORS
MICHAEL BATTLE
Michael Battle is an Assistant Professor
of Spirituality and Black Church Studies at Duke University
Divinity School in Durham, North Carolina. He holds a B.A.
and Ph.D. from Duke and earned his Master of Divinity degree
from Princeton University. Dr. Battle has served on numerous
committees and is vice chairman of the Board of Directors
for the M.K. Gandhi Institute for Nonviolence, an organization
promoting nonviolence and conflict resolution. Dr. Battle
was ordained in South Africa by Archbishop Desmond Tutu and
credits many of his beliefs on just war and pacifism to time
spent with the Archbishop. His publications include The Wisdom
of Desmond Tutu and Reconciliation: The Ubuntu Theology of
Desmond Tutu. Battle’s forthcoming book, A Christian
Spirituality of Nonviolence, will focus on subjects similar
to those discussed in his contribution to “Just Peace
Readings” and will be available next year from Mercer
University Press.
MARK L. MACDONALD
Mark MacDonald currently serves as Alaska’s
seventh Episcopal Bishop. Bishop MacDonald received his B.A.
in Religious Studies and Psychology from the College of St.
Scholastica in Duluth, Minnesota, pursued post-graduate studies
at Luther-Northwestern Theological Seminary in Minneapolis,
Minnesota, and earned a Master of Divinity from Wycliffe College
in Toronto, Canada. In addition to his duties in the Diocese
of Alaska, Bishop MacDonald is a trustee of the Charles Cook
Theological School in Arizona and a member of the board of
The Indigenous Theological Training Institute, the Episcopal
Council of Indian Ministries, and the Governor’s Council
on Suicide Prevention. His published works include “It’s
in the Font: Sacramental Connections between Faith and Environment”
and “Native American Youth Ministries,” which
he co-authored with Dr. Carol Hampton.
GEORGE E. PACKARD
George Elden Packard became the fifth Bishop
Suffragan for the Armed Services, Healthcare and Prison Ministries
in 1999. He received his B.A. in History from Hobart College
in New York and a Master of Divinity degree from the Virginia
Theological Seminary. After completing his undergraduate studies,
Bishop Packard enlisted in the military and served as an infantry
officer in the First Division in Vietnam, for which he received
the Silver Star and two Bronze Stars. Both Bishop Packard’s
parochial and diocesan experience is extensive. He has served
parishes at Grace Church in Hastings-on-Hudson, New York,
the Church of the Epiphany in New York City, and Christ’s
Church in Rye, New York. His office at the Episcopal Church
Center was responsible for streamlining pastoral care and
counseling efforts following the attacks on September 11th,
an effort that has since expanded to include support during
Operation Iraqi Freedom and the ongoing war on terrorism.
Bishop Packard was awarded an honorary Doctor of Divinity
from the Virginia Theological Seminary in 2000.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Demanding Peace: Christian Responses to War
and Violence
A.E. Harvey
SCM Press, 1999
Chapter 4 , “The Just War Tradition Today” available
in Spanish and English at http://www.episcopalchurch.org/ashapm/justwar.html#harvey
“It’s Too Soon for War”
Richard Harris
The Tablet, January 18, 2003
“Iraq The Moral Case for War”
Michael Novak
The Tablet, February 15, 2003
“No Just War Outside the Law”
Daniel Brennan
The Tablet, February 22, 2003
Just and Unjust War: A Moral Argument with Historical
Illustrations
Michael Walzer
Basic Books; New York, New York 1992
Just War Against Terror: The Burden of American
Power in a Violent World
Jean Bethke Elshtain
Basic Books; New York, New York 2003
Just War? Just Peace!
Resource provided by the Anglican Church of Canada
Particularly “Peace in Our Time: Christian Reflections
on Peace and Conflict” by the Reverend Canon Eric Beresford
Maylanne Maybee, Coordinator, Justice Education and Networks
on behalf of the Just War Working Group of the EcoJustice
Committee, 2001
“Politics as Calling”
Max Stackhouse, Princeton University
Via the courtesy of graduate studies, Chaplain Cameron Fish
“Righteous Empire”
Robert Bellah
Christian Century, March 8, 2003
“Suicide from Fear of Death?”
Richard K. Betts
Foreign Affairs, Volume 82, No.1; January/February 2003
War As Crucifixion: Essays on Peace, Violence,
and ‘Just War’ from Christian Century
Particularly “Just War Tradition: Is it Credible?”,
John Howard Yoder, 1991
John M. Buchanan, David Heim, Editors
Christian Century Press; Chicago, Illinois 2002
War is a Force that Gives Us Meaning
Chris Hedges
Public Affairs; New York, New York 2002
“What Will it Take to Deter the United
States?”
Richard K. Betts
Parameters, Winter 1995
“Would an Invasion of Iraq be a ‘Just
War’?”
Gerard Powers, Robert Royal, George Hunsinger, Susan Thistlethwaite,
contributors
report from United States Institute of Peace, January 2003
“Bishop’s Notebook, Maundy Thursday,
2003, Enroute to Fort Hood, Texas”
By The Rt. Rev. George E. Packard
From the website of the Office of the Bishop Suffragan for
Chaplaincies
“What We’re fighting For: A Letter
from America”
Institute for American Values, February 2002
http://www.americanvalues.org/html/wwff.html
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