I’m not completely convinced that American military
intervention in Iraq was the right course of action. Yet I’m
also not convinced that the anti-war protesters have moral
superiority.
Although I supported President George W. Bush’s
last-resort decision to stop Saddam Hussein with force, I too have
cried for the innocents lost. I feel torn apart, watching the
glaringly surreal coverage of unfolding events, weighing the issues
that emerge, and shifting the complicated arguments to and from a
state of clear comprehension.
But my crying actually started awhile ago, with the knowledge of
so many human beings living under a dictator’s daily terror
campaign, and with the awareness that many in the Middle East were
victimized by the genocidal brutalities of a corrupt and soulless
regime.
Still, I am not sure of my gut feelings, nor do I see how anyone
can claim to be sure about which political perspective or national
policy will actually result in the least amount of human grief over
time. Those on the left wing may think they are certain, but I
simply don’t know which position represents the true moral
imperative ““ which strategy will ultimately save or lose the
most lives. However, time and again, history’s wars and
conflicts have taught an arguably irrefutable lesson: Delaying
confrontation of active tyranny results in the most human
loss.
In about 25 years of rule, Hussein had already killed thousands
of people. He continued to ruthlessly dominate the bleak fates of
over 24 million people. How big do the numbers need to get before
we consider it time to decisively act against such prolific systems
of evil?
Reflecting on the attacks on the United States and the global
war on terrorism, I cannot say there is only one lesson to be
learned from Sept. 11, 2001. I think we all learned different
lessons, all of them probably true and correct. What is the core
lesson? I do not assume that I know. I believe moral
self-righteousness is a vacuously loathsome attribute that both the
left and right wings routinely accuse each other of harboring
““ and they are both correct.Â
But Sept. 11, 2001Â sent me a personal message: Morally, you
cannot capitulate to, or try to appease, people bent on murdering
you. Much of the left learned a different lesson ““ that the
United States brought this attack on itself because of Western
dominance and insensitivity.
Different lessons learned indeed, and each with a starkly
different focus of responsibility.
From a moral perspective, I do not think that the United States
can be assigned even 1 percent of the responsibility for
Sept. 11, 2001. In fact, the thought is actually abhorrent to my
psyche. To blame the United States for Sept. 11, 2001 is so morally
off-target in terms of scope and focus of responsibility, it
becomes yet another classic example of blaming the victim.
I do feel that ample evidence was presented to conclude that
Hussein’s menace represented the ideological and literal
pipeline for future attacks against Western targets. Where is the
morality in waiting indefinitely for those weapons of mass
destruction (disclosed in great quantities to the United Nations 11
years ago) to be distributed and deployed against us or against
others? Where is the morality in allowing this dictatorial danger
to continue to threaten its region and the world?
After all the ethical arguments are compared, I’m certain
there are no plausible rationalizations whatsoever for the horrible
acts of mass murder a pathological group of hateful people
committed against America. Most of all, our jobs as freethinkers
are to continually recognize, debunk, and then factor out the lies
and half-truths promulgated by both the left and the right. Until
we do, we are not really thinking on our own.
Both the left and the right have agendas to pursue. These
political agendas are played out on the world stage of events, with
both groups manipulating their respective constituencies. Often,
both leave the real insights behind as collateral damage. Each side
displays hypocrisy and self-serving, morally oblique
justifications.
In order to remain faithful to one’s own sense of
autonomy, one cannot only ask hard questions of the right; one must
also ask equally hard questions of the left.
Matsas is the staff development coordinator for Student
Affairs.