May 29, 2007
My Feelings about War
As I noted in a comment on my last post, it began as an attempt to put words to my thoughts and feelings on war. You see, the politics that I was reading today were those of Laurence Vance, a “a freelance writer and an adjunct instructor in accounting at Pensacola Junior College in Pensacola, FL.” to quote the blurb at the end of each of his articles. I added him to the new “Thought-Provoking Sites” section of my blog, because his views (and many of those on LewRockwell.com) seemed well argued and because they challenged my own and gave me food for thought. Lots of it.
Mr. Vance hates the current war in Iraq with a passion, and government with all the holy fire of a zealous libertarian. From one of his recent articles, he stated that
The adoration that many of these Christians have toward President Bush is unholy. The association of many of these Christians with the Republican Party is unholy. The alliance between evangelical Christianity and the military is unholy. The idolatry that many of these Christians manifest toward the state is unholy. But what continues to amaze me the most is the unholy desire on the part of many of these Christians to legitimize killing in war.
And he goes on to make his case regarding the traditional interpretation of the 6th commandment as forbidding murder, not killing per se. Obviously, his previous statement gets into a lot of issues, some of which would be very interesting for me to write about (perhaps I will), since I am one of those Christians he refers to, but the one that I’m most interested in right now is the idea that Christianity necessitates pacifism. Granted, this is not a traditional idea unless you’re Quaker or Amish, but it has been around for quite a while, and I’ve read some very compelling cases for pacifism. My intention in this post isn’t to debate the issue; I’m more interested at this point in understanding my reaction to this idea.
Quite frankly, I have an visceral attachment to war. And realizing this surprised me. I love reading about war, studying weapons, tactics, strategies, battles. Some of my favorite heroes are warriors (Aragorn and Honor Harrington spring immediately to mind), and almost all of my heroes killed somebody.
I’m instinctively wary of the ideology of pacifism; anything that discourages boys from pointing guns at one another or slaying dragons is deeply suspicious in my point of view. Foolish me, I have a romantic view of war at heart, though I know that it is terrible, nasty, boring most of the time, horrible the rest of the time, sticky and dirty; something at the core of me holds on stubbornly to the idea that there can be glory in it, too. I don’t understand it yet. I trust it, and I’m pretty sure it’s right, but I don’t understand it.
Romantic war is glorious: good pitted against evil, desperate charges, valiant last stands, noble death, courage, honor ... it’s all there. But real war is so very different ... in real wars you’re never the lily-white good guy fighting the totally-evil bad guy. And innocents always get hurt. Real war is about accidentally killing kids and farmers and women. Or not even so accidentally: viewing killing them as a “necessary evil.” Real war is about destroying the enemy by any means necessary, and protecting yourself from the same by any means necessary. And “any means” can easily stretch to horrors unimaginable in saner moments. Oh yes, we have codes of conduct that we more or less try to follow. But there’s a constant fraying of them, and despite even your best efforts (and often you give only a token effort), you get dirty. I know all this secondhand, though books and my imagination. And those tools never give a full portrayal of reality ever, and in war less often than usual, I think.
Someone may say that it takes more courage not to fight; to be willing to suffer and be beat on and “turn the other cheek.” There’s truth in that, but I would ask such a person to remember that there are at least three kinds of people who refuse to fight: the wimp, the coward, and the saint. Only one of those kinds is admirable.
Ruthless justice is out of vogue. Even in the movies where the hero deigns to fight, it’s quite fashionable for him to spare the life of the chief bad guy (who generally attempts some foolish last gesture and gets himself killed, satisfying the audience’s desire for mercy and justice: the hero mercifully makes his gesture, the villain treacherously cheats and is justly slain). Being something of a contrarian, I rather approve of ruthless justice, and my more vicious side darkly approves of proposals to “kill ‘em all.” I really do have a dark, vicious side: it usually comes to the fore when watching movies or reading books when the side of goodness has taken a pounding and I’m still recovering from the loss. When the “bad guys” begin to take their own fair share of the casualties, I have been known to snarl gleefully at them, exulting in their death and destruction. There is a fierce, cruel, ecstatic joy that sweeps over me and delights in the death and destruction being visited on the enemy. I imagine it’s a common thing, though I think I show it more freely than most.
In my saner moments, I’m more than a little disturbed by the revelation of my darker self. But while it makes me uneasy and I know that much of that exultation is evil, I feel that there’s good in it, too. And it’s a good that our culture rarely openly celebrates (though the profusion of action movies shows that it is certainly widely felt). But I think that, at the heart of it, there’s something good in it. To be quite blunt, I think God shares it. That’s a shocking idea to most, but I’m convinced that most people’s opinion of God is entirely too nice. Most people’s idea of God wouldn’t hurt a fly unless it was absolutely necessary, and then He would certainly apologize to the fly and weep copiously afterwards. God wouldn’t hurt anyone, now would he?
Of course, the specter of the Old Testament rises in some people’s minds, but I’m fairly certain that most people don’t think about it much. Those thoughts are filed under “unpleasant things I don’t quite understand about the Bible” and forgotten. Perhaps a few take refuge in the comforting thought that we live in a new age or dispensation. Others take comfort in arguing that those parts of the Old Testament are lies. Of course, there’s Ananias and Sapphira in the New Testament, but most people don’t know about them. And I’m sure there’s a horde of liberal theologians willing to declare that account apocryphal and invalid if it should ever become an issue. There’s also Revelation ... but that’s all prophetic mumbo-jumbo.
A pastor I listened to once asked, “Why should you fear God?” He paused for a long moment and then answered his question: “‘Cause he can kill you.” Not a pleasant thought for a grace-loving, judgment-shunning comfy church.
I hasten to mention that the opposite problem exists too, and is just as (probably more) serious. It’s not uncommon among conservatives to have an image of God as angry, vengeful Judge who is watching and grading their each and every move. For them, they know exactly why they should fear God: it’s why they should love God that’s a little harder. Oh, they know the reasons why they should love God, but can’t really bring themselves to love Him. John makes an extremely good point in writing
There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.
1 John 4:18 (ESV)
No-one who is afraid of God’s punishment can come to God wholeheartedly. They are always wary of a heavenly fist coming down to smack them. They cringe every time He reaches out to embrace them. Fear God, yes! But for the love of God, remember that your sins are forgiven and that you are accepted, I beg you!
I’m still thinking about my stance on war. I’m really struggling with Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount: taken at their face value, I really don’t like them. But I really don’t want to explain away the passage and be wrong. And I’m just not sure about it yet.
I am certain of this: as long as evil exists, there will be war. There must be war. There ought to be war. But the manner in which this war is fought is “not against flesh and blood.” Where does that leave our “flesh and blood” wars? I’m just not sure yet.
