Chomsky antwortet einigen Kritikern: Über moralische Prinzipien und internationales Recht

What's the basis of valid moral principles?

Isn't the bombing a violation of international law? Is anyone bringing

charges? What are the reactions to that in the U.S.?

 

Z-Magazine, Kommentar vom 9. Mai 1999

 

I'm afraid the first question is not a "genuine question," though there is a

huge literature, for thousands of years, attempting to say at least

something about these topics, without much success. It is no more a "genuine

question" than such pseudo-questions as "why do things happen" -- far too

broad to be addressed seriously, and very poorly understood.

There are, however, a few moral truisms that are relevant here. They hold

for any person -- let's consider one such person, call him/her X. The first

truism is that X is primarily responsible for the likely consequences of

his/her own actions, or inaction. The second is that X's concern for moral

issues (crimes, etc.) should vary in accordance with X's ability to have an

effect (though that is of course not the only factor). The two principles

tend to correlate, even coincide, in the conclusions that X will draw --

that is, if X is a moral agent, someone worth paying attention to.

 

To illustrate, it may be worthwhile to study the crimes of Genghis Khan, but

there is little moral significance to that; we can't do anything about them.

Similarly, it is highly worthwhile to attend to US-backed atrocities (say,

in Turkey, or Colombia, or East Timor, or Iraq, or many other places),

because we are responsible for the crimes and can do a lot about them --

very easily; namely, by withdrawing our (often decisive) support. But

attention to Pol Pot's crimes, while a worthy enterprise (if done honestly,

which was rarely the case), had little if any moral significance because

there was no hint of a proposal as to what to do about them -- and when they

were terminated, the US was infuriated and severely punished the criminals

(the Vietnamese) who carried out the clearest case of "humanitarian

intervention" since World War II.

We understand these truisms very well when we are thinking of others. Thus

no one in the U.S. was impressed when Soviet commissars railed about U.S.

crimes; we were much impressed, however, when dissidents in the USSR

condemned Soviet crimes. The reasons were the two moral truisms just

mentioned (which, as is commonly the case, coincided in their implications).

 

At this point it is useful to recall a psychological truism. One of the

hardest things to do is to look into the mirror. It is also often the most

important thing to do, because of the moral truisms. And there are very

powerful institutions (the entire doctrinal system, in all of its aspects)

that seek to protect people from engaging in this difficult and crucially

important task. Every society has its dissidents and its commissars, and

it's close to a historical law that the commissars are highly praised and

the dissidents bitterly condemned -- within the society, that is; o the

other hand for official enemies the situation is reversed.

It's also worthwhile to recall other psychological truisms. Focussing

attention on the crimes of others often gives us a nice warm feeling of

being "good people," so different from those "bad people." That's

particularly true when there is nothing much we can do about the crimes of

others except to help make them far worse, from a distance. Then we can

simply wail without cost to ourselves. Looking at our own crimes is much

harder, and for those willing to do it, often carries costs, sometimes very

severe costs. That's typically been true of dissidents in US client states,

like the murdered Jesuit intellectuals in El Salvador. A useful experiment

is to ask your friends to tell you their names, or to ask them how much they

have read of what they have written, and then to compare the results with

the same questions concerning Soviet dissidents, who were not treated

anywhere near as harshly in the post-Stalin period. That's a way of looking

in the mirror that can teach a lot, about ourselves, and about our

institutions.

 

These are matters that have been endlessly discussed (see, e.g., the

introduction to Herman's and my "Political Economy of Human Rights"). They

are so trivial that it is kind of embarrassing to keep reiterating them. But

perhaps that is useful as well. The application of these truisms is

extremely broad. I think that you will easily find examples.

 

---

 

That the bombings are in gross violation of international law and the

founding documents of NATO itself (which subordinate NATO to the UN Charter)

is not seriously denied. About a legal challenge, one has brought to the

World Court by Yugoslavia. Similarly, the Indian commission of jurists has

brought to the World Court a legal challenge to US/UK bombing of Iraq, also

in gross violation of international law. Sudan has demanded a Security

Council inquiry on the US destruction of half of its pharmaceutical and

fertilizer supplies by terrorist bombing (also transparently illegal), but

US pressure has succeeded in keeping the matter off the agenda.

 

As for reactions here, they are interesting. The U.S. has been radically

opposed to international law since its modern foundations were established

under U.S. initiative in 1945. In the early days, that was kept to internal

(now declassified) documents, such as the first Memorandum of the

newly-formed National Security Council (NSC 1/3), calling for military

action in Italy if the left won the election (I've written about this in Z,

reprinted and extended in "Deterring Democracy"). With the Kennedy

Administration, disdain for international law became quite public, in

particular, in speeches by senior Kennedy adviser Dean Acheson. The main

innovation of the Clinton/Reagan years is that it has become entirely open.

In fact, the US is the only country to have vetoed a Security Council

resolution calling on all states to observe international law -- mentioning

no one, but everyone understood who was meant. There's a brief review of

these matters in an article of mine in Z in May.

It's entirely obvious why the powerful should have contempt for

international law, and why the weak (particularly the former colonies)

should generally favor it. The powerful do what they want anyway; treaties

and systems of world order don't offer them any protection. They do,

however, offer at least some limited protection for the weak. That is why

the real "international community" is quite commonly opposed to the resort

to violence by the US/UK (and now their NATO partners). In the U.S. the term

"international community" is used to refer to NATO, but we can surely

dispense with that racist/imperialist jargon ourselves.

 

An intriguing aspect of the post-Cold War scene is that the US attack on the

UN (which has been going on since Washington lost control in the '60s, with

decolonization), the World Court, treaty obligations, etc., has become far

more extensive. The reason is straightforward: the old pretexts ("the

Russians are coming") had lost their utility, and in the absence of a

deterrent, the U.S. was much more free to resort to violence than before.

That was evident at once. And it is entirely obvious now -- even called a

marvellous "new paradigm."

 

It's important to bear in mind something that even much of the left prefers

to ignore. There is only one "really existing alternative" to the weak,

fragile, and in many ways very defective system of world order: the powerful

will do as they wish. Alexander Solzhenitsyn is not exactly my favorite

commentator on world affairs, but he does have it basically right this time:

"NATO is imposing on the whole world and the next century an ancient

law...whoever is strongest is right." Hardly surprising, then, that the

strongest are the most enthusiastic cheerleaders for the "new paradigm."

We need only add another virtual truism: the task of the respectable

intellectuals, as always, is to portray whatever happens as angelic, or

maybe an understandable "mistake," if the consequences become too hard to

suppress. That's as old as recorded history.