Friday, February 29, 2008

On Terrorism


An important issue in politics today is the nature of the War on Terror; how it should be waged, if it should be waged, what rhetoric we should use, what means we should use, are all topics that are debated. This post will deal with whether or not we should call those who are the antagonists to the West in this conflict 'terrorists.'

It is an important thing to remember that although 9/11 brought the subject of these kinds of movements and their activities to the forefront of American popular thinking, they are not a new phenomenon. For many years previous to this date the problem of militant organizations carrying out attacks against civilian populations has been one of the issues of foreign policy for most nations. The nation of Israel has dealt with this problem for many years, as has Lebanon, Russia, and the Philippines. Moreover, there have been many movements that do not specifically target civilians, yet are called 'terrorists' by their foes; witness the African National Congress in South Africa during its militant days, the ETA among the Basques, and many others (during the occupation of France during the Second World War, the Germans called the Resistance 'terrorists'). So clearly the term 'terrorist' has been used to describe a wide variety of militant organizations, some of which had good aims, and others which had evil aims (in our eyes).

So the argument runs, 'those who carried out the attacks of 9/11 and who are targets of the War on Terror are merely like the French Resistance, who resisted oppression.' After all, hasn't the West done terrible things in the past against the ethnicities from which the militant organizations spring? It must be admitted that the grievances that Al-Qaeda and others like them claim against the West are not completely illegitimate; after all, if they were all untrue there would be no resentment against the West that would spur new recruits to join. Yet even if these arguments are true, and they are almost always grossly exaggerated and decontextualized, it would still not give Al-Qaeda and their ilk an excuse to take the actions that they have taken.

There is a fundamental difference between proper resistance to oppression and improper resistance, or terrorism. Proper resistance does not specifically target civilian populations. As an example of this, the ANC in South Africa always targeted military and government installations when they rebelled. Now, even this in the situation was inexcusable (which is why Nelson Mandela is a lesser man than Mohandas Gandhi in terms of resistance movements) but nevertheless could not be classified as terrorism. Terrorism specifically targets civilian populations to make a political point, and to cause political change. It is useful to apply the measures of just war to the actions of Al-Qaeda: Proper cause--perhaps; but very open to debate; proper authority--no, as no government has authorized them; no targeting of civilians--no, indeed the whole point of their attacks is to target civilians and so to spur fear in them; proportionality--more difficult, but in general the attacks of terrorists are indiscriminate and so show no care for proportion at all. In all these things terrorism fails to meet the justification of just war.

The words 'terror' and its variants are useful words that should be used very precisely to refer to certain organizations and actions that meet the following criteria:
1) Not a government body, and in the case of actions not authorized by a government body (when governments use these tactics in a war, it is called something different)
2) Commit acts of violence against specifically civilian targets; namely, the using of civilians as pawns to force their governments to do things (once again, when governments use these tactics it is called something different)
Nationalist movements are sometimes terrorist movements and sometimes not; yet the people who perpetrated the 9/11 attacks are not specifically nationalist but rather global. Al-Qaeda has as its aim the intimidation of Western governments so that an Islamic empire may re-emerge. This is not a strictly nationalist aim, but rather a religious/utopian one, one which makes them and those like them all the more odious and so deserving of the epithet 'terrorist.'

Governments doing the acts that terrorists do are committing war crimes or oppression; but by definition terrorists cannot commit war crimes as they are not engaging in war, which must be authorized by a government, and they cannot oppress anyone as they do not rule anywhere. So the term 'War on Terror' is a useful one and should be kept, so long as it is clearly understood who is targeted: organizations like Al-Qaeda that target civilians for political ends.

Monday, February 18, 2008

On Statesmen


What makes a statesman? Is it signing lots of treaties? Is it preventing wars? Is it winning wars? Is it founding great governmental institutions? Is it propagating noble ideas about nationhood? Is it founding a nation? What makes a statesman?

A statesman is one who builds an order, whether it is a national order or an international order. A statesman must have an overall vision for what he wants to do, and must have the savvy to know how to put that vision into effect. A statesman must contribute something lasting to his country and to the world.

Who are examples of statesmen? And why are they statesmen? In the next few posts, I will look at various men throughout history whom I think qualify as statesmen, and examine why they qualify as such. Some are famous, some are not--but each of them had those ineffable qualities of vision and ability.

Lee Kwan Yew
Pictured above, this man is known as the "Kissinger of Asia." His main accomplishment is making the tiny island-state of Singapore into a major world economic power. When he started his rule at the time of Singapore's independence in 1959, Singapore was a poor and defenceless backwater; when he ended in 1990, Singapore was an island of wealth and stability amidst the general poverty of Southeast Asia.

One thing that characterized Lee Kwan Yew was his vision: the government of Singapore knew what it wanted to do, created a blueprint for growth and development, stuck to it, and then after completing it moving on to other things. The government under Lee was (as it remains) extraordinarily competent.

So the primary reason why Lee Kwan Yew is a statesman is because he built a nation-state almost single-handedly into a prosperous and responsible member of the world community. But there are other things about Lee that make him a statesman; his foreign policy efforts, especially after his stepping down from the premiership, are widely respected. As well, he is tactful and self-controlled; witness his care not to overstep his bounds after he stepped down from power in 1990.

Of course, he is not without flaws. An autocrat, he refused to tolerate much political dissent during his career, and even now regularly sues those who criticize him (A little like the Church of Scientology?). Some of his government's policies are harsh and illiberal (illiberal in the best sense of the phrase; that is, opposed to classical liberalism), such as racial quotas for immigration and the capital punishment for drug trafficking. Still, statesmen have used such methods in the past, and Lee is certainly a realist in most matters--which is also important for statesmen.

All in all, Lee Kwan Yew is a statesman due to his role in building Singapore to where it is today.



A Bit of Latin

Quid facis, Catilina? Quid cogitas? Sentimus magna vitia insidiasque tuas. O tempora! O mores! Senatus haec intellegit, consul videt.

Quid: "what," interrogative pronoun
facis: "do/make," a third conjugation -io verb in the second person singular
Catilina: "Catiline," personal name in the vocative; Catiline was a conspirator against Cicero when he was consul
Quid: "what," interrogative pronoun
cogitas: "think," a first conjugation verb in the second person singular
Sentimus: "sense/perceive," a third conjugation -io verb in the first person plural
magna: "great," adjective
vitia: "sins/faults," second declension neuter noun in the accusative plural
insidiasque: "treacheries [and]," first declension feminine noun in the accusative plural with modifying "-que" added
tuas: "your," possessive pronoun modifying 'insidias'
O Tempora: "O Time," third declension vocative neuter noun
O mores: "O habits/morals/character," third declension
masculine vocative plural
Senatus: "Senate," first declension noun in the nominative singular
haec: "this," demonstrative in the masculine nominative
intellegit: "understand," first conjugation verb in the third person singular
consul: "consul," nominative noun; 'consul' describes one of the two executive officers of the Roman Republic
videt: "see," second conjugation verb in the third person singular

What are you doing, Catiline? What are you thinking? We perceive your treacheries and great sins. O Times! O Morals! This Senate understands, this consul sees.
(Marcus Tullius Cicero)

Monday, February 11, 2008

On Certainty

One of the hallmarks of the postmodern mindset is the refusal to believe anything is objectively true--or rather, that human minds can know what is objectively true. Thus the constant admonition to people who persist in the appallingly backwards notion of speaking with a semblance of confidence in a fact is to add words like "I think," or "I could be wrong but..." After all, if you can't know things for certain, why claim in your speech that you can? You're just being arrogant. Some (Brian McLaren comes to mind) believe that certainty is the cause of all the problems in the world both past and present. If only we could be less certain!

On one level, this is perfectly correct. Human minds being what they are, that is, both finite and fallen, they can never apprehend truth objectively or fully. There must always be an element of suspicion about conclusions made by human judgment, for the humble mind of man can, and often does, get things wrong. Therefore humilty is always needed in making a judgment. However, we cannot take this concept to its logical extreme, for there is another element in human judgment that must be taken into account: its being made in the image of God.

Because the human mind is made in the image of God, it is able to apprehend things. Perhaps not fully, perhaps through a clouded glass, but it can see things nonetheless. If it was always wrong, humanity would not be able to function or to put its trust in anything. As it is, one can generally trust that adding vinegar to baking soda will result in a chemical reaction, even if you haven't seen the reaction before. The human mind is capable of seeing results and in evaluating them, so trust in this conclusion about the effects of vinegar and baking soda is not unfounded. Of course, this is an extreme example, one capable of being proven in short order at any time. Other things, such as judgments about human beings or societal systems of religious beliefs, are not so certain and are definitely not so easily provable. Yet they also are able to be judged with some amount of accuracy, because the human mind has the capacity to discern good and evil and true and false with some degree of clarity.

So how do we judge judgments when we know our minds to be imperfect yet not unbroken? A simple solution, one that everyone uses constantly, is the Percentage Solution: if I am 95% sure of something, I am going to speak with certainty about it and am going to act concretely and with confidence upon it. There is no use in saying "I could be wrong but..." about an issue about which one is confident in and wishes to see acted upon. For one thing, it diminishes your authority when speaking. I am much more likely to believe you if you say "this is the case" than if you say "this could be the case, but I might be wrong." In other words, it creates a bad impression and is in very bad rhetorical form. For another thing, it diminishes your confidence in your own judgment and could well result in you becoming a fence-sitter on all issues, or, even worse, liable to be blown by any wind of the moment to endorse any conclusion. All in all, it's better to speak with authority and if proven wrong to retreat graciously. Children are easily persuaded to endorse any position that you take, because they in general trust their elders and do not have concrete principals with which to guide them. This a good thing for children, but in an adult is a very bad thing. "I left childish ways behind me," says the apostle Paul, and like him so must we. Convincing an adult to change his mind on an issue in which he is over 75% sure is a daunting proposition, and usually takes quite a long time. Of course, the things that we are 75% or more sure of ought to be chosen carefully, for sometimes the time doesn't exist to convince us. Military commanders with only one report on enemy movements shouldn't be 75% sure of what they are going to do, or else they may be unwilling to change their minds in time to counter their enemy.

However, even if one is only 50% sure of something, it is wise not to sit on the fence but to act upon that thing. If you are 50% sure that giving your sister a figurine for Christmas would not be appreciated, it is probably not worth a try to get one for her (I am 100% sure that this is not a good gift for my sister--which is why I got her one). If you are 50% to 75% sure of something, then it is probably a good idea to put in a qualifying phrase if the situation is right (Alan Greenspan is a master at this, but then in his field--economics--one is never more than 75% certain of anything). To use a religious example, if I am 60% sure that Calvinism is correct, I am going to try to attend a church that teaches Calvinist doctrine, but I am not going to avoid people who are not Calvinists. Judgments have consequences, but those consequences should be subject to the degree of certainty that one has.

This is only a rough guide, and there is no doubt much more that could be said on this issue (for a further discussion of postmodernism and epistemology, D.A. Carson's "The Gagging of God" is an excellent starting point). In all ages wisdom must correct the overreaches of the time; in the modernist era, a hermeneutics of suspicion was helpful: in the postmodern era, objectivity and the human capacity to know must be affirmed. And even now it appears that postmodernism is falling out of vogue; although what might replace it is anyone's guess.

There are exceptions to this: in the Bible we are assured that we may be certain of some things, and that prolonged doubt is a sin; thus Luke writes his gospel so that Theophilus may know the "certainty of the things that you have been taught." The confirmation of the Spirit gives us certainty; yet always the weak human nature has that niggling doubt, which will probably not be excised until the resurrection.


A Bit of Latin

Homines magnae virtutis tyrannos superare audebant.

Homines: "men," third declension masculine noun in the nominative plural.
Magnae: "of great," adjective modifying the noun "virtutis," in the genitive singular.
Virtutis: "character/ courage," third declension feminine noun in the genitive singular.
Tyrannos: "tyrants," second declension masculine noun in the accusative plural.
Superare: "to conquer/to overcome," verb in the infinitive.
Audebant: "used to dare/ were daring," verb "audare" in the third person plural imperfect.


Men of great courage were daring to conquer tyrants.

Friday, February 1, 2008

Wall Street Journal on Harper's NATO Dare

The Wall Street Journal seems to agree with Harper's position on Afghanistan.

Notice the excellent pixellated portrait of Harper. It is comforting to have a stalwart conservative paper come out in favour of the PM's stance.