I’m sure nearly all Palestinians and nearly all Israelis would agree that they want to avoid continuing a cycle of violence. But what if we had gone to Abraham Lincoln in the midst of the Civil War and said, “you don’t have a warrant to keep blowing up the other side in a way that continues the cycle of violence”? Or what if we had gone to President Roosevelt in 1944 and said, “you don’t have a warrant to keep blowing up the other side in a way that continues the cycle of violence”? How would they have responded?

What if the United States had invaded Rwanda in 1993 to protect the population there from genocide, and then someone had told President Clinton that he didn’t have a warrant to attack Rwanda in a way that continues the cycle of violence?

For one thing, they would have said, correctly, that this whole “cycle of violence” would end immediately if the other side would simply concede defeat. They would argue that it’s morally irresponsible to ignore the issue of legitimacy when assigning responsibility for a cycle of violence. It’s unreasonable to ask people who feel victimized and frightened to basically give up the right to fight for their lives and freedoms, just to stop the “cycle of violence.”

Changing the subject, you write, “I think the U.S. should be just one nation in the system or community of nations.  We just don’t have the right to invade anyone we want whenever we say so.”

Why? Don’t get me wrong — I agree with you. But is it possible that you believe these things about the limits of U.S. power for moral reasons, and I believe them for pragmatic ones?

I know somebody, for example, who would argue that the U.S. isn’t just one nation in a community of nations. He would argue that the U.S. is superior to other countries, that our right to protect ourselves trumps all other imperatives, and we have a right to do whatever we think is necessary to maintain our freedom. 

You might condemn this friend of mine as morally evil; you’d argue the U.S. isn’t superior, and that we have to balance our desire to protect ourselves against other moral imperatives, such as limiting U.S. power. (He would respond that you are apparently in league with the enemy.)

I, on the other hand, would agree with him that we do have the right to do what it takes to protect ourselves. I would avoid the issue of whether the U.S. is superior, and basically make the case like this: America will be safer and more prosperous if we promote an international culture of peace, democracy and stability by subjecting ourselves to an international order. Even if we think it is in our short-term interests to invade other countries without broad international support, the long-term costs will be horrible for our security. In other words, belonging to a “community of nations” KEEPS US SAFE more effectively than violating international standards of behavior. 

So now, instead of arguing about which one of us is evil or about whether the U.S. has a right to defend itself, we’re arguing over how best to keep this country safe. You might be able to publicly shame my friend with your argument, but I don’t think you could pursuade him — but I believe I might actually have a shot at winning him over to my side.

When you make the moral argument against the war, you’re essentially arguing that you are motivated by other imperatives — moral imperatives, such as restricting American power — that you believe should trump the imperatives to protect the American people from terrorist attacks and empower the Iraqi people. You’re saying, “Even if the Iraq War would accomplish these goals of protecting Americans and liberating Iraqis, we STILL shouldn’t do it, for other reasons.”

You may be right, but what’s the point of going there? It’s an unnecessary argument. Since the war hasn’t made us safer and hasn’t “liberated” the Iraqi people, there’s no point in arguing over whether it was moral. It’s like asking, “Would it be all right if I took a dump on my neighbor’s lawn in order to win $1 million.” We could debate whether it’s morally appropriate to “win” $1 million by taking a dump on a neighbor’s lawn, but it seems more relevant to debate WHY taking a dump on the neighbor’s lawn would cause someone to win $1 million.

What if I said “Is there really any m oral disagreement about whether a Palestianian child should be killed by a blockade” would you agree?  A lot of Israelis would make a vocal argument in favor of blockading Gaza — a really destructive policy which led to the recent spate of rocket attacks.  And a lot of Palestinians would say “as long as our children are killed we should continue rocket attacks.”  There is a moral disagreement.

My “moral” claim would be that regardless of the horrible suffering either side has suffered in this forty year plus conflict  — whatever the questions are about “legitimacy” — neither side has a warrant to keep blowing each other up in a way that continues the cycle of violence.

The death penalty point is an exaggeration meant to illustrate that moral arguments are involved in even the most “practical” arguments.   The moral of preventing crime is so embedded in public consciousness that to oppose it seems alien and strange.  Your response is to appeal to convincing “sane Americans,” to public opinion on particular issues, but that’s a separate issue from whether moral or practical issues should have priority.  Sane Americans are sane, in your scheme, because they hold certain moral values.  Values I agree with, in this case, but again separate issue.

The implicit warrant of Rumsfeld’s case for invading Iraq is this:  America can invade anywhere we like whenever we decide we want to — the same warrant Clinton used to attack Kosovo; the same warrant Russia used to invade Georgia; the same warrant any imperial-minded power relies on when it crosses into someone else’s border without a threat of immediate attack (as defined according to the Geneva convention, I think).  Do you agree with Rumsfeld’s claim?  I don’t.  I think the U.S. should be just one nation in the system or community of nations.  We just don’t have the right to invade anyone we want whenever we say so.  So Rumsfeld’s success in accomplishing his “war of choice” — i.e., the choice that the U.S. claims it can make whenever it feels like it — less interesting to me than the claim that Rumsfeld really has the “choice.”  I would deny him that choice.

I would argue that there is nothing wrong with accepting Rumsfeld’s larger goals in the terms that Rumsfeld explicity articulated it before, during and after the war. The problem is his tactics, which were (a) immoral, and (b) ineffective. Am I right?

To argue against the Iraq war primarily by saying that it was not effective in acheiving Rumsfeld’s goals risks accepting Rumsfeld’s moral framework.  On the contrary, to say that I reject Rumsfeld’s moral framework/priorities is to say nothing about strategy.  He may be successful or he may not, but he should not have pursued his goals in the first place, because his goals are bad.

Of course, I partly hold my views partly because of my assessment of the pragmatics of the particular situation, and how the facts relate to my fundamental values as I understand them.  But once I decide then opposing Rumsfeld’s — or Ehud Barak’s — priorities becomes at heart a point of morality.

I hope, at some point in the future, you write more extensively about the moral dimensions of the war in Afghanistan and/or the war in Gaza. I want to understand what you means when you say the Gaza war is a huge mistake morally.

This reminds me of the issue of torture: critics of the US torture policy offer moral arguments (torture is wrong) and pragmatic arguments (torture doesn’t work, and is actually counterproductive). When it comes to the question of how best to argument against torture, I strongly prefer the practical arguments to the moral ones — because I feel that if I make the moral argument, then I’m implicitly conceding the pragmatic argument. The same could be said in this case — I can imagine an Israeli being deeply offended that we would criticize their actions as immoral, when from their perspective they are trying to protect themselves.