ruminations on morality, ethics and international relations

In the flood of opinions and commentary that followed when India and Pakistan tested their nuclear weapons, two things made me very uncomfortable. The first was my own feeling that in spite of having a graduate degree in the area, I was not competent to participate. I found it hard to articulate what I was feeling in the studied, dispassionate terms I had been taught to value. The second was my reaction to Arundhati Roy’s dramatic expression of outrage published in the magazine Outlook—the only piece making a moral argument that seemed to receive much attention. While my own position may not have been very different, I found it shrill and was exasperated at its emotional tone.

These were related. I felt I was not competent partly because morality and emotion were a big part of my initial reaction. That being the case, how could I possibly deserve to speak with or to the experts? In the world of realist international relations, morality seems a little goofy. Roy’s piece annoyed me for a variety of reasons. First, I do not react well any more to intensely emotional writing, and am trying to write and speak more calmly myself. Second, I have observed that people who make the ethical argument, especially women, are immediately dismissed or patronized. In my experience, those arguments are often sidestepped with an "Yes, anyway, X or Y or Z state cannot possibly act in this or that fashion…" The power-play in the discussion between the conscientious objector and the pragmatic strategist takes on a gendered cast, as the omniscient, action-oriented, tough-talking, reality-facing proponent of national interest prevails dismissively upon the gentle, unresisting, pacifist voice of morality, prevailing too over her sometimes shrill ranting. The third reason I was annoyed by the Roy piece was that while her celebrity ensured an audience for her piece, I could not help wondering whether its high-pitched tone would in fact weaken that position in the long run.

The particularities of that instance apart, the question remains: how does one bring ethical concerns to the consideration of international relations in an analytical and convincing fashion?

The relationship between ethics and international relations is a difficult one. While arguably there has never been greater consensus among states over the basic norms of the system, and some of these norms do relate to ethics (for example, the universal condemnation of genocide), equally, skepticism about an ethical or moral code acceptable to all societies encompassed by this system has never been greater.

The norms that govern the present international system are not ethical norms but conditions for the survival of the system and its component units. Sovereignty, with its concomitant principles of non-intervention and non-aggression, is the bedrock of this normative complex. Violation of these principles may prompt criticism and even action, but it is the stable survival of the system rather than an ethical principle that is responsible for that reaction. Defiance of state sovereignty comes also from nationalist movements that adopt ethical arguments to their purpose. However, national self-determination is no more an ethical position than is the condemnation of external aggression. Both sovereignty and self-determination are political principles. This is not to say that the outrage felt in defense of either political principle and the actions taken to defend them do not closely resemble moral outrage.

States have often justified their actions in somewhat ethical terms: intervention in defense of the defenseless (India in East Pakistan in 1971), intervention on behalf of allies (the US in Kuwait), withdrawal of recognition and diplomatic representation (after violent regime changes), trade rights (the debate over China in the US) and financial assistance (post-test sanctions against India and Pakistan) in protest against another state’s actions that are deemed immoral and unacceptable, economic sanctions (against apartheid South Africa) and acceptance of asylum-seekers. Now, non-state actors do the same and the movement of arms and soldiers from Afghanistan to a number of other conflicts is prompted by their sense of right and wrong. In the case of state and non-state actions, whether one considers these actions ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ seems to depend on the degree to which one suffers them.

But surely ethical standards are universal and much less open to violent disagreement? Apparently not.

Yes, there are some things we have all come to agree are wrong. Genocide is one of them. This means that crying genocide should draw attention easily enough in the international arena. But it does not. Some instances of genocide draw more attention than others. Some situations are labeled ‘genocide’ more readily than others. Some are not, rightly or wrongly. These differences are a consequence of economic, cultural and political factors. The very fact that this paragraph does not end with the second sentence underlines the fact that agreeing on a principle is not the same as feeling committed to abide by it.

Furthermore, consensus is not unanimity, and it is not even necessarily consensus on every letter of the ethical question, just on the broad idea of it. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights are a case in point. Human rights violations abound even though most humans would agree, in principle, that human rights are a good thing, and it is ethical and proper for all humans to have such rights. In the last ten years or so, adding insult to injury, the consensus on human rights has been fraying publicly. Writers from the "non-Western" world have been pointing out that the notion of individual rights is "Western," alien to their own cultures and value systems. The imposition of such a system of standards is a form of imperialism. Writers from the "West" have in turn pointed out that civilizational differences, amounting to differences in political values, set the stage for conflict. As they range themselves on either side of this part-academic, part-political debate, the prospects of finding something that we all seek to uphold as ethically proper fade further away.

Little wonder then, that ethical and moral arguments are so unpopular in international relations discussions. One can hardly tell when a position is taken for ethical and when it is taken for political, reasons. The rule of thumb seems to be: if you agree, it is ethical and if you do not, it is political. Or alternately, if you are relatively strong, it is political, and if you are relatively weak, it is ethical. This makes no sense. Being ethical and moral are nobody’s monopoly.

People sidestep this quagmire by ignoring ethics altogether. Some sense of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ does pervade foreign and security policy decision-making and its post-mortem discussions. Nevertheless, to place ethics at the center of the discussion is unthinkable. States, we are told, have their own reasons, and these reasons have to do with survival, with growth and with power. There can be no place for considerations of right and wrong in this, unless it furthers the position already favored for these reasons.

Is that true? Are ethics and morality irrelevant considerations in our political lives? I, for one, find that unacceptable. If we absolve the political arena of ethical or moral responsibility, what remains? There remain no standards to which we hold ourselves, and no standards to which we aspire. There are no limits to the means we may adopt and no check on how we use them. What is the purpose for which we organize politically and how does politics serve us, if divorced from the ethics that we have still not abandoned as standards for own personal lives and interactions?

Wimpy and unrealistic as those who express moral outrage sound in this era of macho realism, they uphold standards that we must acknowledge. Take nuclear weapons and other weapons of mass destruction. It is immoral for us to look for ways to perpetrate that kind of destruction. There is no difference after all, between building a weapon of mass destruction and stockpiling light arms and kerosene for ethnic cleansing. There is no difference between preparing the ground with research and raw materials for this and preparing a secret blueprint for wiping out fifteen villages at the dead of night. The question of defending the state or the community are equally important or unimportant considerations and ultimately, the means justify the end. One needs to consider international relations issues as much by this standard as by others.

Yes, it is true that each individual must ultimately make their own ethical and moral decisions. However, it is by permitting ethical and moral questions into the political arena that we can ensure that they are even considered by the individuals who make policy. Can we really live with political arrangements where, "Is this the right thing to do?" is not a question that is asked repeatedly during the decision-making process? I would like to think that each person, acting as a part of political society, holds herself to such a standard. This is not a standard related to social mores (marital fidelity, drug use, sexuality) that occupy the attention of some people and that change from one generation to another. This is a standard that is harder to define and certainly harder to meet, and therefore even more important.

States have their own reasons, but they are not independent juggernauts. They are made up of people like us and are subject therefore to the standards to which we hold ourselves. We cannot release them from the ethical obligations by which we feel bound. States do have more complex mandates and operate in more complicated conditions in some ways than do most of us, but if we absolve them of ethical standards, we make ourselves vulnerable to their excesses and culpable for those excesses.

Rather than dismiss or abandon ethical arguments in discussions of international relations questions, let us find a way to articulate them without petulance, without offense and without hyperbole. Engagement and not accusation must be our objective. For those who would not waste time on these questions, I would point out that weak-kneed and airy-fairy as they sound, being ethical makes you very, very strong. You can rant, rave, run, shoot, but you cannot obscure what is right. This is why we idolize those who resist injustice, those who fight for the weak and dispossessed and those who do not bear arms in a situation of violence. There must be a way for our states to live and act ethically, and it is our job—as policy-makers, analysts, teachers, writers, citizens—to find that way, together.

Swarna Rajagopalan
East Lansing, April 15th, 2000

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