Pre-emption Perforce: A Reply to Chris Seiple

By Nick Megoran and Marc de Chazal

Originally posted on the website of the Institute for Global Engagement on February 23rd 2003.

In his November 2002 article, 'Guns, Government, and God,' Chris Seiple emphasizes the importance of prayer, worship, and the authority of Scripture. We support this as far as it goes, but believe that his argument about the use of force in general, and pre-emptive war in particular, rests on a fundamental theological error. In the opening paragraph he implies that the existence of violence is the key immutable fact from which all sensible action must proceed. This assumption involves an implicit denial of the cross, the historical reality at the centre of the Christian faith that represents an alternative way to comprehend the world. Thus it is no surprise to find Seiple struggling to articulate a uniquely Christian position and arriving at a conclusion on Iraq indistinguishable from that of George W. Bush or Tony Blair.

At several stops, Seiple is remarkably candid in acknowledging that his conclusions may appear contrary to Jesus' teachings. His argument is structured as a succession of propositions about human nature, the purpose of government, God's wrath, justice, and just war. We will follow his argument and original subsections, showing how appearances, in this case, are not deceiving.

Human Nature

Seiple expounds his moral ontology on the basis of Thomas Hobbes, the apologist of absolutism. Seiple sketches not a theology of sin and grace, nor a political economy of international relations, but rather a moral topography of a world divided simply between two camps of good and evil. These two realms are projected neatly onto the U.S. and Iraq respectively, making both political and historical analysis redundant.

Located unambiguously in the camp of goodness is the U.S., whose judicious use of force "at home and abroad" makes most people "thankful" — or so it seems to Seiple. Such generalisations ignore the millions who have died as a result of direct or indirect application of U.S. force over recent decades in Vietnam, Chile, Nicaragua, Cambodia, Somalia, etc.

Seiple's simplistic statement that "Saddam Hussein is a bad man who has done bad things", along with his later assertion that terrorists "understand nothing but force," are emblematic of a worldview that too easily consigns enemies to a realm of absolute evil, where actions are beyond rational comprehension, devoid of the slightest foundation in legitimate grievance, and inexplicable in terms of political conflict. The implication of Seiple's Manichean framing of the argument is that "evil" can only be opposed and defeated by military force. This is both a form of anti-politics and an incitement to violence. Seiple's moral geopolitics of primal violence is thus a self-fulfilling prophecy that is itself part of the problem, and is of little use in understanding the Iraq crisis.

The Purpose of Government

By this point, the direction of Seiple's argument is already clear. Although he believes that violence is the most appropriate response to those he defines as "evil" in his moral cartography, he still needs a proximate justification. For this he turns initially to Romans 13.

Seiple invokes this passage in order to remind his readers of the relationship between government and God's sovereign, providential overruling of history. Unlike more skewed traditional readings of this passage, Seiple is careful not to detach chapter 13 from chapter 12, which implores the church to "overcome evil with good." He also accepts that although God uses the government as his "servant," this does not automatically assume divine sanction of any particular state or state action. Indeed, his reference to Jeremiah's description of Nebuchadnezzar as "my servant" (a title Isaiah also ascribed to the tyrannical Cyrus) reinforces the idea that the "servant" might be a wicked entity. Seiple also accepts that this Pauline text primarily deals with "domestic" order rather than international relations, and does not follow commentators who make the unsustainable leap to justify Christian participation in warfare.

What's more, it is peculiar that Seiple uses this passage as his sole source to derive a theology of the state. He overlooks important texts such as Matthew 4:8-9 and Revelation 12-13, which further highlight both the extent to which this "servant" is a fallen power and the enmity which it has for the church.

God's Wrath and the Role of Force

Seiple is aware that traditional readings of Romans 13 endorsing Christian participation in warfare are untenable. However, he does not make the logical movement from his use of Romans 13 to embrace the Romans 12 vision of Christ-like peacemaking and love for enemies. Given the ontological primacy he ascribes to the moral lens of good-versus-evil through which he views the U.S.-Iraq crisis, he is trapped by the need to locate other biblical resources to underwrite his position. He attempts to find these in Gospel accounts and Pauline deployment of martial metaphors.

Conceding the difficulty of the task he assigns himself, Seiple acknowledges that "Jesus tells us to turn the other cheek and He himself did not practice violence in any form." He unconvincingly argues around this obstacle by explaining that Jesus was a divine being who essentially gave us principles for private rather than corporate life, negating Jesus' normative ethical principles or, at least, disabling those that block the argument for militarism that Seiple is trying to justify. Stressing Jesus' divine over his human nature is a classic error resisted by all mainstream Christian traditions.

Seiple's argument that Jesus taught a private rather than public morality is difficult to sustain from Scripture. Except for his guidance on prayer, most of Jesus' teachings deal with family, friends, enemies, strangers, and authorities. For example, his instruction to "walk the second mile" when compelled to travel only one refers to Roman soldiers' rights to conscript people to carry burdens for a mile. This ethic clearly deals with military occupation by a foreign force. Jesus never invited anyone to "accept me into your heart as personal lord and saviour," as some preachers suggest; but he did call people to "follow me" into a public life that inevitably clashed with the governing authorities and led to his political execution.

Perhaps aware of the problems with this argument, Seiple goes on to argue that indirect references to soldiering in the New Testament actually endorse military force. He calls these a "commentary on the role of organized violence." But there is no such coherency in the New Testament literary corpus. Seiple argues that because John the Baptist apparently told soldiers at baptism to be content with their lot, he therefore endorsed their vocation. This is flimsy evidence. All three pieces of counsel that Luke records John giving were about economic justice, and were clearly chosen to frame Jesus' announcement of jubilee themes in his "Nazareth sermon." Jesus did hold up the centurion's faith as a model and did not condemn his soldiering, but neither did he condemn his slaveholding, which a man in his position would certainly have done. Jesus used social outcasts such as prostitutes, tax collectors, and Samaritans to illustrate his message of the kingdom, but in no way does this suggest he approved of their actions.

Seiple suggests that Paul's use of martial metaphors is "significant," but he refrains from using these to contradict Jesus' teaching on violence. This is just as well, as the Bible also illustrates God with images of a drunken man arising from a stupor, a dishonest judge who needs badgering for results, a corrupt master who reaps where he does not sow, and a bridegroom coming to claim ten virgins without remotely suggesting that God approves of alcoholism, corruption, robbery or polygamy.

Lastly, Seiple makes a sweeping argument about the "importance" of Jesus and the apostles' failure to condemn soldiering. Even if true, it would be a very unsound principle to argue that silence on an issue assumes positive moral approval. However, Jesus repeatedly and frequently condemned the desired use of violence by his disciples, enunciating universal principles about "putting away the sword." On some occasions, he denounced the violence of the society and Roman Empire around him.

For his part, the Apostle Paul went out of his way to ensure that his martial metaphors would not be misunderstood, insisting that, "the weapons we fight with are not the weapons of this world" (2 Cor. 10 v 4). Peter, who was rebuked by Jesus for using violence, came to understand Christ's death on the cross as the very model for how we are to deal with our enemies (2 Pet. 2 and 3). The New Testament does not seek to overthrow the state system by violent revolution, but insists that Christians have no part in killing and violence of any form. The church held this position for many centuries, and accounts abound of new converts being obliged to give up military service upon conversion.

Seiple admits that his selected scriptural examples do not decisively "make the case for the use of violence or even just war." In conceding so much ground, he leaves himself very little to stand on. His oversimplified moral ontology and his desire to justify war on Iraq converge to make him resistant to the non-violent conclusion to which his own discussion of the Scriptures inexorably seems to point.

Justice

Having failed to establish any convincing scriptural justification for Christian participation in warfare, and being admirably candid about it, Seiple employs a quite extraordinary tactic to get round the problem.

He introduces "justice" into his argument, which he defines as "doing the right thing the right way." But how do we know what that is? Seiple's answer: by "discernment," a form of prayer. Discerning the course of true justice leads Seiple to "something that was never intended … the use of force." This mysterious process is not explained, nor is the phrase "never intended." Seiple claims extra-biblical revelation to qualify his argument for a martial form of justice (even whilst seeming to accept that this conclusion contradicts Scripture).

We do not doubt his sincerity, but this convenient argument essentially closes down all debate.

War, Justly

This inexplicable leap of reasoning opens the way for Seiple to associate "justice" with "just war theory." Seiple no longer quotes Scripture. Understandably, for just war theory is a pagan philosophy grafted uncomfortably onto Christianity for political expediency. It is uncongenial to the wars of territorial aggrandisement and ethnic cleansing of the Old Testament. Just war theory is not easily adaptable to the New Testament, either. The One who broke the logic of violence by submitting to it, refusing to "answer injury with injury," rejected the "just" conduct of "an eye for an eye." In Revelation 12 and 13, the saints are described as "overcoming" their enemies by giving up their own lives.

Seiple does not explain why he adopts just war theory, but it is obvious where he wants to go with it; he clearly believes war against Iraq to be justifiable. He mentions, but does not use, the traditional tenets of just authority, just cause, and right intention. And with good reason, as Bush's war on Iraq hardly satisfies those criteria. Space does not allow us to enter the debates surrounding this issue, but it will suffice to cite one reference to George Friedman, head of the conservative think-tank and "intelligence" bureau, Strategic Forecasting. In a recent article he said that all the talk about weapons of mass destruction, UN resolutions, and al-Qaeda links was "a bodyguard of lies."1 Friedman was clear about the real reason: the need to conquer Iraq and use it as a permanent base to control the Middle East. He has urged Bush to come clean, and admit that, "invading Iraq is in the U.S. national interest regardless of whether Hussein has a single weapon of mass destruction ... this is about strategy, not guilt or innocence."

Avoiding these more traditional arguments, Seiple justifies war on Iraq on the grounds of pre-emption. This is probably a necessary strategy, especially as (at the time of this writing) neither weapons inspections nor the U.K. and U.S. military and intelligence services have been able to make any substantive demonstration that Saddam Hussein's military poses a clear and present danger to the U.S. It is difficult to envisage how it could, as it was decimated in 1991 by U.S.-U.K. bombings, sanctions, and UN weapons inspections over the twelve years since then.

The argument that Saddam Hussein could manufacture weapons of mass destruction in the future and give them to terrorists who will attack America is, of course, impossible to refute. The same argument could be made of Canada.

The difference is that Seiple has already located Iraq in the realm of "evil"; he repeats again that, "Saddam Hussein is a bad man who has done many bad things and will do so again if given the chance." On that basis, a pre-emptive war against Iraq can be considered a moral and just war to destroy evil and redeem future generations from the forces of evil. This is a self-contained argument that is not readily rejected or supported by discussion of factual evidence.

There are three ways in which Seiple's moral cartography fails. First, the boundaries between "good" and "evil" are more blurred than his analysis allows. A non-biased reading of U.S. history since 1945 will, for instance, uncover multiple stories of extreme terror exacted on foreign populations, of millions killed across the third world, either by the U.S. directly, or by its satellites and protégés. Saddam's Ba'ath party was installed by a CIA coup. In the 1980s the U.S. bolstered Iraq economically, militarily, and diplomatically, helping it acquire weapons of mass destruction even while it knew it was grossly abusing human rights. In the 1991 Gulf War, the U.S. intentionally destroyed water purification installations, and has subsequently prevented Iraq from importing the materials and chemicals to restore them. Hundreds of thousands of people have died of diseases such as typhoid as a result. In terms of a crude body count, this ranks, behind Central Africa but ahead of the Balkans, as the worst case of genocide in the 1990s.

Secondly, the flaws of Seiple's moral cartography are exposed by history. Let us not forget that Hitler justified his wars on states such as Czechoslovakia and Norway with arguments about pre-emption. The current arguments for pre-emptive military action are identical to those made following World War II, which went something like this: the USSR may develop nuclear weapons in the future; it is irredeemably evil; it will use such weapons because Soviet Communists are bent on evil world domination; therefore, we are obligated to fight on our terms. Serious suggestions were made for massive pre-emptive nuclear strikes on the Soviet Union. Thankfully, these terrifying arguments were defeated; exactly the same arguments must be defeated now. They are based neither on fact, argument, nor political analysis, but rather a moral cartography that locates our enemies in a realm of evil beyond rational discussion, enemies who must be destroyed at any cost. And then, thirdly, there is theology. New Testament theology stresses that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, not just some. That was why Jesus commanded us to love our enemies because "he causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the just and the unjust." Jesus challenged the violent crowd that was seething with self-righteous anger and desiring to execute the 'evil' adulteress. "Let the one without sin cast the first stone," he said, silencing the mob.

That is New Testament theology a universally fallen race, but a saviour amazingly gracious to all. Seiple warns that, "we should be very careful about espousing a theology that has God figured out." Good advice, if only he had truly heeded it. In the end his argument is meant to lead inexorably to the conclusion that God is on his side, if it comes to war.

His article asks important questions, and we join with him as a brother in Christ in seeking the right answers. However, we believe that his fundamental assumptions about the moral geography of international space inform his analysis more than traditional Christian theology.

Finally, we observe that Seiple misses out a term of analysis that should be central to all Christian decision-making in conflict situations: the kingdom of God. He introduces this theme in his second sentence, saying that, "American missionaries are murdered overseas", but then it disappears from his analysis. Indeed, the gospel is meeting increasing resistance in so many lands, because it is associated with Western imperialisms past and present. The "just war" legacy has given the faith of the peacemakers Jesus and Paul the reputation of violence, and made it feared and hated in many parts of the world.

As American theology professor Gerald Schlabach astutely observes, "If Christians in the United States are confused about who our leader is and whether we ought to close ranks in support of President Bush, it is probably because we are also confused about our citizenship. Iraqi Christians will die from bombs ostensibly targeted at the Saddam Hussein regime. Pakistani Christians are already under attack because Christianity is identified with U.S. policies. The least that American Christians can do is factor in loyalty to fellow Christians around the globe as we determine our stance to leaders named Bush, Hussein and Jesus."2

Nick Megoran is a political geographer at Cambridge University, England; Marc de Chazal is an editor and writer in Cape Town, South Africa.

Endnotes

1. George Friedman, "Smoke and Mirrors: The United States, Iraq, and Deception," Strategic Forecasting, December, 2002.

2. Gerald Schlabach, "We Pledge Allegiance," Sojourners, January-February 2003: 15.