By Jonah Goldberg
Friday, May 16, 2014
Here's a question. If -- and this is a big if -- the
United States could dispatch a swarm of heretofore secret super-drones to find
and kill every member of the Nigerian terrorist group Boko Haram, would you be
in favor of doing it?
I'll even modify it for those of you who are squeamish
about killing terrorists who slaughter men, women and children with abandon.
What if the drones could simply paralyze the terrorists long enough for the
U.S., or the Nigerians or some duly authorized force of U.N.-sanctioned
"good guys," to apprehend them? Would you favor it then?
I phrase the hypothetical question this way because it
avoids some of the usual objections to the U.S. "imposing" its values
militarily. Chiefly, it avoids the concern about risking American lives for
causes that many believe aren't in our vital national interest. It also avoids
concern about civilian casualties.
So would you be in favor of it?
I would. The Islamist band of psychopaths has made
headlines with its abduction of more than 200 schoolgirls, which is horrible
enough. But among these terrorists' crimes, this isn't necessarily the worst
thing they've done. They've been burning, butchering, murdering, raping and
torturing their way through Nigeria for years. The group's stated ambition is
to impose an Islamic caliphate in Nigeria, but it seems to me (and borrowing an
old bit from Eddie Murphy), Boko Haram's real goal is to avoid the long line to
hell. When they see the Stygian bouncer, he'll say, "Oh, you're from Boko
Haram? Right this way." And then he'll lift the red velvet rope blocking
the express down elevator to eternal damnation.
And it wouldn't bother me one bit if the United States
helped them get what they've got coming.
Unfortunately, it's not that easy. We don't have such
drones -- yet. There is no button to press that would cleanly and safely rescue
those girls and put the terrorists out of Nigeria's misery. We can no more wish
that drones will solve the problem of Boko Haram than expect Twitter hashtags
to solve it. The only methods available to us involve all sorts of risks, to
American lives, American interests and -- also important -- to Nigerian lives
and interests.
Concerns about these risks are wholly legitimate and
largely persuasive.
But it's worth pointing out that such objections to U.S.
intervention are pragmatic ones, drawing from a complicated cost-benefit
calculation. Only fools refuse to weigh costs and benefits. But cost-benefit
analysis is different than moral analysis.
For instance, if we could topple the North Korean regime
with a vigorous hashtag campaign on Twitter or a super-drone attack -- thus
liberating more than 20 million souls from the vilest regime since Hitler and
Stalin were in power -- it would be immoral not to launch such a campaign.
Unfortunately, as of now, the only way to get rid of the
North Korean regime quickly would be to launch a massive and destructive (and
politically impossible) war that could lay waste to Seoul, cost tens of
thousands of American lives, and quite possibly spark World War III with China
or invite a nuclear exchange on the Korean Peninsula. The potential costs
wildly outweigh the potential benefits.
The modern phrase "with great power comes great
responsibility" was popularized in Spider-Man comics, but Voltaire was its
true author. FDR was scheduled to give a speech on April 13, 1945, in which he
was to say, "Today we have learned in the agony of war that great power
involves great responsibility." Alas, he died on April 12. And of course,
Jesus said, "Everyone to whom much was given, of him much will be required."
The point is the same in every version. The ability to do
something creates an obligation. The obligation isn't total and it's by no
means a legal requirement. But it's there, like a moral compass pointing you in
a direction. And the final destination may not be reachable in a straight line
without the costs of getting there outstripping the rewards of arrival.
But some non-interventionists reject all of this, arguing
that we have neither the right nor the moral standing to impose our ideas of
right and wrong on others. This strikes me as an attempt to make a virtue out
of having no compass at all.
No comments:
Post a Comment