Abstract
Kevin Carnahan is one of an increasing number of voices that detect a rift in just war thinking between two alternative visions of the tradition, namely those resting on a presumption against harm (PAH) and on a presumption against injustice (PAI). In his recent work, Carnahan offers an insightful remedy to the perceived stalemate in recent debates between these two, in the form of a virtue-oriented approach. The first half of the book, Parts 1 and 2, presents a critique of the two visions. The constructive task is taken up in the second half. Part 3 offers a reading of the Christian narrative via Paul’s treatment of the atonement and the imitation of Christ. In the final part, Carnahan provides a prudential account of just war reasoning, which he claims has the potential to overcome the weaker tendencies of the alternative modes of just war reasoning criticized in the book’s first half.
Carnahan avers that early articulations of PAI were proffered as rhetorical responses to certain developments taking place in just war thinking. Paul Ramsey, an early progenitor of the PAI approach, did not write of ‘presumptions’ in connection with just war reasoning at the outset of his academic career. Rather, Ramsey was concerned about the growing amoral realism and consequentialism that permeated ethical discourse about war. In response, he developed a deontological and casuistic approach to just war reasoning based on the principle of agape. It was not until 1988, in response primarily to James Childress and to Ramsey’s own Methodist denominational position (the US United Methodist Bishops’ Foundation Document, In Defense of Creation: The Nuclear Crisis and a Just Peace, Graded Press, 1986), that Ramsey argued for a presumption against injustice as essential to right just war reasoning.
Carnahan argues that, after Ramsey, others including James Turner Johnson and George Weigel soon took up PAI reasoning. Johnson provided critical analysis of the PAH position and support of PAI, not speculatively but through a historical reconstruction of the just war tradition. Conceived through such authors as Augustine and Aquinas, the just war tradition, according to Johnson, contains both deontological and prudential criteria. The deontological criteria (e.g. sovereign authority, just cause, right intention, and legitimate targets) take precedence over lesser, prudential considerations. The primary concern of the just war tradition, classically conceived, rests in providing justification for the use of force through the employment of the deontological criteria. Only after decisions concerning the permission of the use of force are decided are the prudential criteria considered.
On the other hand, there have been those in the just war debate who have seen things differently. Advocates for the PAH have included W. D. Ross, James Childress, and Richard B. Miller. The PAH approach is also evidenced in certain ecclesial documents, such as the American Catholic Bishops’ pastoral letter, The Challenge of Peace: God’s Promise and Our Response (National Conference of Catholic Bishops, 1983) and In Defense of Creation, mentioned above.
For PAH advocates, the primary function of the just war tradition is to limit instances of war. As Miller related the PAH just war reasoning, ethical reflection about the use of force is couched in terms of moral duties. In times of war, these duties will inevitably conflict with each other. For instance, war is contemplated in light of one’s duty to help those in need. The use of force in war, however, likewise violates one’s duty to do no harm. For Miller and other PAH advocates, there exists a prima facie duty to do no harm. As such, just war reasoning is grounded in a presumption against harm. The just war criteria are utilized to judge when this prima facie duty may be overridden.
The PAI advocates find this line of reasoning troubling. According to PAH, war is evil, but in extreme circumstances we decide we must engage in this lesser evil nonetheless. For PAI advocates, war is morally neutral and is a means of acting for the common good, which the sovereign is charged with pursuing and maintaining.
According to Carnahan, numerous issues present themselves in both the PAH and PAI just war reasoning. For starters, both of these systems of ethical reasoning are overly abstract and of little use in making precise moral judgments. They both present a ‘top-down’ structure, beginning with abstract moral principles and working to make particular judgments in light of these. For both camps, their respective ‘presumptions’ serve as ‘ur-principle(s) of the [just war] theory’, that is, as ‘rules governing how the just-war criteria should be applied’ (p. 4). For the PAI position, the ur-principle is manifested in unconditional rules that are then applied to specific cases. On the PAH account, the ur-principle is not unbending rules, but rather ‘competing moral obligations that must carefully be weighed against one another’ (p. 18).
Carnahan concludes the critical portion of his book by arguing that both PAH and PAI function as deontic moral theories that diminish the role of virtue. He wants more emphasis on virtue in just war thinking and argues for an account of this that is grounded in the virtue of prudence, which he understands ‘as the higher-order virtue that governs moral interpretation of the world’ (p. 8). Thus, in the second half of the book, Carnahan presents his constructive argument for a prudential account of just war reasoning.
This project begins in Part 3 with the explication of his interpretation of Paul’s teaching concerning the imitation of Christ. He argues that the perfect imitation of Christ is not possible for believers this side of the eschaton. While God in Christ was able to hold together the various aspects of the atonement (agape, pistis, kenosis, and dikiosynē), currently believers can only approximate this imitation of Christ in an imperfect fashion. Given varying contexts, certain situations will call for an emphasis on one or more aspects of the atonement, and, while believers are not able to hold all of them together, better and worse approximations of them are possible. We cannot know, however, in advance which element(s) of the atonement it is fitting to emphasize. Enter prudence. Carnahan writes, ‘The ideal [of imitating Christ] provides the tensions amongst agape, pistis, kenosis, and dikiosynē that create the field in which Christian prudence is formed and developed’ (pp. 126–27). Prudence allows one in particular situations to discern which of these elements it is necessary to focus on.
In Part 4, Carnahan builds upon his reading of Paul to develop his account of a Christian, prudential attitude towards war, by seeking to overcome certain binaries present in much contemporary moral reasoning, such as reason/emotion and particulars/broad principles. He contends for an account of prudence associated with practical reasoning and moral perception; the latter, for Carnahan, includes sensory, cognitive, and affective content. Moreover, Carnahan envisions the just war criteria as ‘functioning as vague moral principles: principles that provide the boundaries for moral discourse without necessarily determining concrete judgments’ (p. 6). Elsewhere he describes the criteria in his prudential just war reasoning as ‘the field of play in which just-war arguments are deployed’ (p. 162). In other words, he wants to move beyond current approaches to just war thinking (PAI and PAH) that employ the criteria as universal principles or rules applied in varying contexts. Instead, the criteria provide boundaries within which just war debate and reasoning occur. He rounds out his constructive account of prudence with a case study of the Gaza police during an episode in the Israeli/Palestinian conflict.
The task undertaken in Carnahan’s book is both timely and difficult. The complexity and the asymmetric nature of the contemporary battlefield are not so readily governed by a simple set of rules. Countless situations arise in which mere rules will not suffice. A recovery of virtue ethics is needed. Likewise, the task of training virtuous warriors, citizens, and political leaders is daunting. While it may be overstating the case to claim Carnahan’s task is an impossible ideal, he himself seems to understand some of the difficulties involved in such an account. Carnahan perceptively writes, ‘To say that we need virtue is one thing. To have a society capable of producing and following virtue is another’ (p. 187). Are we up to the challenge?