"Laws are silent in times of war."

Posts tagged “snipers”

Nothing Unjust About Using Snipers in War

Posted on February 1, 2015

The film American Sniper has sparked debate in the media about the morality of using snipers in combat. Logan Isaac recently reflected here in Cicero on “Just War” theory and rightly pointed out its inclusion has been notably lacking in such conversations. There is no reason why when considering Just War theory, sniping and other means of modern war should be considered inherently wrong. It is the “ends” of wars that are more important than the “means” used to fight them.

Isaac claims that sniping belongs in a category with submarines, bombers, drones, artillery and other long range weapons that protect the attacker from reprisal. “For war to be moral,” he writes, referring to traditional Just War theory, “ it must be something like a social contract in which combatants expose themselves openly on the field of battle to equal chance of being killed or injured.”

But these are criticisms of the “means” of modern warfare. When put into practice, this idea fails to make significant distinctions for the moral analysis of combat. At what distance does it become immoral to engage the enemy? One kilometer? Two kilometers? Ultimately one is just picking an arbitrary number. If it is morally acceptable to shoot an enemy combatant from 100 meters, then there is no reason why it should be wrong to shoot the same combatant from 600 meters or more.

If we follow through on the “equal footing” claim, the only morally justifiable fighting would be single combat in the tradition of Paris and Menelaus, David and Goliath, or jousts and pistol duels.

A situation of “equal footing” is also immeasurable and non-existent in combat. How does one determine equal footing? Who should determine it? One side may have an advantage in one category and the other side in another. One might point to equal technology, equal numbers, or similar tactics, but there is no situation in combat in which neither side has an advantage. If both sides deploy snipers does that not mean the two sides are on equal footing and their use justified? The U.S. deployed snipers in Iraq and Afghanistan and its opponents did as well.

If one side has more troops, one might argue that the side with fewer soldiers could use snipers to level the playing field. If both sides of a conflict must face equal risk, then any advantage one side has over another would render combat immoral. Further, if concealment in war is immoral because of the advantage it creates, then every soldier who seeks it is guilty, whether they are a sniper or not.

Ultimately, if we follow through on Isaac’s equal footing claim, the only morally justifiable fighting would be single combat in the tradition of Paris and Menelaus, David and Goliath, or jousts and pistol duels. If one is to claim that the use of snipers is inherently immoral, one cannot do so on the basis of an unfair advantage gained from distance or concealment.

 

Ends and Means in War

The idea that an equal chance of being killed or injured is necessary for a war to be just is foreign to the Just War tradition, and even to many of the authors Isaac cites in his argument. Augustine argued that “provided the war be just, it is no concern of justice whether it be carried on openly or by ambushes.” The political theorist Michael Walzer has argued that covert assassinations and the shelling of enemy command posts can also be morally justified. The primary concern of Cicero, Augustine, and Walzer is the moral end toward which the action is aimed, and whether those ends are truly good. Again, the ends of war matter more than the means.

One can think about moral ends in war on three levels. First, the “ultimate end” of war is achieving peace. Second, we should consider the “political ends” for which a war is fought. For example, in WWII the Allies fought to defeat Nazi oppression. Third, we need to consider the “immediate ends” of a particular action in a war, such as bombing a bridge to limit the enemy’s mobility.

Governments, militaries and individual soldiers must continually choose between “good” or “bad” ends at all three levels in war. When the ends being pursued are not good ends, their actions will become unjust. The abuse of prisoners at Abu Ghraib in Iraq was an action directed at an immoral immediate end: The humiliation and dehumanization of captured enemy combatants. That immoral action also harmed progress toward the political and ultimate ends of the Iraq War, which still remain unclear and controversial. If one is truly pursuing peace as the ultimate end of a war, then abusing prisoners will inevitably prevent that goal from being attained.

The questions we ought to ask ourselves regarding snipers is: Can their use in war achieve morally good ends? What immediate ends are being pursued when snipers are deployed in combat? Using snipers for good immediate ends, such as protecting fellow soldiers from a suicide bomber, can advance the goal of peace and the political ends being pursued in a war. Using them for bad immediate ends, such as indiscriminately killing unarmed noncombatants out of anger, can hinder them. It is the ends that matter more than the means. A soldier’s action is not rendered immoral simply by the distance of the shot or because they were hiding in cover or on a submarine or watching from a drone’s camera thousands of miles away when they pressed the trigger.

One also must consider what effect the action has on the political and ultimate ends being pursued in the war. Immediate ends are the most important for a sniper because it is the immediate end for which he is directly responsible. The sniper cannot decide what political ends an army fights for, but he does control his own actions in pursuit of those greater goals.

Matt Victoriano expressed this well in his recent Cicero essay. He explained how his decision not to shoot a young rioter but rather to scare him off advanced the goal of peace as much as killing an enemy combatant. Snipers should be—and are—trained to understand when killing is or is not the right decision. There should be an ongoing conversation in the military about educating all soldiers in such moral decision-making. On the surface, the use of snipers may seem wrong to some. However, using snipers and other modern tools of war that place distance and the element of surprise between combatants can be morally justified as long as they support the accomplishment of “good,” moral immediate ends without hindering the accomplishment of good political and ultimate ends. There is nothing unjust about that.

 

[Photo: Flickr CC: Vassilis]

 

 

Steven Magnusen holds a Master of Arts in Historical and Systematic Theology from The Catholic University of America. He currently works as a writer for Zantech IT Services.

American Snipers and ‘Just War’ Theory

Posted on January 28, 2015

Discussion of Michael Moore’s recent tweet questioning the bravery and honor of snipers following the success of the film American Sniper has filled headlines. While many have sought to rebut the accusation of cowardice, as Matt Victoriano recently did here in Cicero, the wider discussion has largely left out the consideration of “Just War,” as well as the morals and virtue of those expected to kill on behalf of our common good. Though I doubt these deeper issues are what Moore had in mind, moral questioning and obligation in war should always be a subject open for discussion, and those who have been to war are best placed to lead it.

Modern war is now about efficiency, which means war is reduced to merely a zero-sum game. In other words, the winners are those who remain standing the longest. This instinct to think of war as primarily a strategic endeavor robs it of its moral substance and makes it an industrial product to be improved, streamlined, and ethically sterile. Such a framework denies the long tradition called Just War, which moral philosophers and theologians stretching back two millennia have advanced in order to restrain our instinct to resort to violence to solve our differences. It is not strategy itself that is a problem, however; Victoriano’s reflections about killing a thousand insurgents by creating five friends is indeed itself a highly strategic consideration. My concern is that we give terrorist ideologies-both American and Arab alike-free reign in war if we neglect talk of the virtues of prudential restraint and personal honor as integral to discussions of battle.

An honest person must grapple with their potential culpability in evil and make reparation if called for. If there are just wars, then there are also unjust wars.

Robert Emmet Meagher’s recent book, Killing From the Inside Out, gives a startlingly tragic biography of the just war tradition, citing repeated efforts at restraining war undermined in favor of winning for winning’s sake. Hugo Grotius framed war in legal terms in the midst of the 17th century’s liberal enlightenment, because of a “lack of restraint in relation to war: such as even barbarous races would be ashamed of.” Nations pursued war with such fervor that they became the very “savages” they sought to snuff out. Lt. Col. Douglas Pryer has also written in Cicero of the concept of “moral injury” among soldiers—American or otherwise—in history and during the recent Global War on Terror. The morality of our violence is of utmost importance if we are to keep from becoming the evil we wish to extinguish. If survival is our primary goal, on the other hand, we can leverage any and every evil to justify our existence.

That being said, Victoriano’s story of teaching a potential combatant a lesson is powerful and moving. But I did not see what it had to do with his specific role as a sniper (it could have been something one of my infantry company team leaders did as well). In moral terms, snipers are part of a martial category that uses surprise and distance. It is part of their specialty. From Michael Walzer to Hugo Grotius to Saint Augustine-who revived Cicero from certain literary death in the fourth century-for war to be moral it must be something like a social contract in which combatants expose themselves openly on the field of battle to equal chance of being killed or injured.

Snipers, insofar as they primarily engage in pulling a trigger from several kilometers away from cover and concealment, are of a kind with submarines, high altitude bombers, drones, and long-range artillery. As a former artilleryman, I too am indicted on this count of potential cowardice. In fact, it is precisely the reason I endeavor within the academic realm to understand war and those who fight therein in order to answer the question: Are we good people? I hope so. But an honest appraisal might prove otherwise. An honest person must grapple with their potential culpability in evil and make reparation if called for. If there are just wars, then there are also unjust wars. And it is up to us to think through the implications of our moral proximity to the necessary evils that our society occasionally calls on us. That is a duty that applies to all, not just American snipers.

I doubt Michael Moore had any of these larger thoughts in mind when he blasted out his tweet about American Sniper. But as bearers of the military tradition, all members of the martial fraternity and I have a responsibility to bear witness to the complexity of war and to the seeming paradox that there is both evil and beauty in war. It requires careful rhetorical surgery to excise the bad from the good. But there are no better people to attempt it than those touched personally by the hellish flames of combat.

 

[Photo: Flickr CC: USMC Archives]

 

Logan Isaac is a combat veteran turned Christian pacifist who has published two books and numerous articles as Logan Mehl-Laituri. He is an aspiring scholar in the fields of political theology and ethics, seeking to bridge the gap between martial and pacifist perspectives. He is a candidate for a Master of Letters in Systematic and Historical Theology at St. Andrews in Scotland, where he currently resides.

 

American Snipers are No Cowards

Posted on January 23, 2015

As a U.S. Marine and former Scout/Sniper, I have trained, operated, and learned in turn from America’s best warriors. These include Navy SEAL’s, U.S. Marines Force Reconnaissance, U.S. Army Rangers, Delta, Green Berets, among others. The recent portrait of Chris Kyle in Clint Eastwood’s American Sniper, along with the controversy surrounding it, has been fueled by comments on the morality or even intestinal fortitude of military professionals such as me. Unfortunately, as happens so often in American discourse, those speaking the loudest are giving opinions on a matter of which they have no knowledge or experience. The direction that the conversation has taken on social media and major news networks has tended to focus on a “bad” versus “good” notion of snipers’ actions and their beliefs. A movie has caused the ignorant to pass judgment on an entire group of professionals whose actions and experience they know nothing of.

Some claim that snipers are cold-blooded murderers. Others say that being and using snipers in combat is cowardly. There are those who have never wore the uniform themselves (and some who have) who have opined that shooting an enemy combatant from a concealed position rather than facing him in open combat lacks bravery. Notably, most of them say this from their couches thousands of miles away and safe at home.

 

One Shot, No Kill

As a Marine Scout/Sniper, my training went well beyond simply pulling the trigger while hiding in some bushes. Shooting and concealment were only part of the training. Making fast, life-and-death decisions in very difficult scenarios was another. Nothing was black and white. Our world is colored in grey, where actions could either influence the battlefield in our favor or the enemy’s favor. Eliminating the right target could save lives; eliminating the wrong target could lead to many more deaths. Imagine the effect on world events if one American sniper had been able to get Adolf Hitler in his sights. We all know the effect of the assassination of Presidents Abraham Lincoln and John F. Kennedy by one—or more—determined shooters. “Second and third order effects” was not the official terminology used, but the concept was ingrained in everything we did.

Our world is colored in grey, where actions could either influence the battlefield in our favor or the enemy’s favor. Eliminating the right target could save lives; eliminating the wrong target could lead to many more deaths.

My proudest shot of all time was sitting on the 5th floor of the Baath Party Headquarters in Saddam City, Baghdad in 2003, a scene actually depicted in another film, the HBO series Generation Kill. A building was being set fire to outside of our position by people lighting rolls of paper on fire and throwing them at the building. Through my optics I watched a teenage boy walk toward a roll of paper with the clear intent of setting it on fire and throwing it at the building like the others.

I had been cleared by my command to take a shot. These individuals were threatening lives and property. It would be a high angle shot and he was about 100 meters from our position, so I had to quickly calculate the mathematical adjustments that I would have to make in my head. Had I been a Navy SEAL, like those on the roof nearby taking shots at unarmed civilians committing arson at the scene, I likely would have shot him in the head.

Instead, I decided to teach him a lesson that would be seared into his memory forever. Just as he bent over to pick up the roll of paper, I took the shot. The distance was too close for me to observe the impact, but my spotter immediately began rolling on the ground laughing at the result. As the boy had grabbed the paper, the roll violently exploded from his grasp and the loud bang of my round echoed through his brain. He jumped into the air, turned, and ran away. No more fires were set.

Instead of turning his family or his entire tribe into insurgents bent on revenge by killing this young man, those arsonists who witnessed it and those he told the story to would understand that we were not there just to kill people, though we had clearly shown that we could have.

 

Collateral Damage

The job of a sniper is not about strapping on “cool-guy” armored gear with lots of straps, Velcro, and guns, flying in on helicopters with 20 other bulked-up bad-asses with beards, sunglasses, ball caps, and dip in their mouths with the intent of killing “brown people,” as the movies picture it. The reality is that my spotter and I found ourselves alone, on foot, and much closer to the action and its results.

We once went on a “Hunter-Killer” mission to find and eliminate insurgents, but instead ended up “going slick” with no protective gear other than pistols stuffed down the front of our pants and sitting in the dirt speaking Arabic with an Iraqi family who had happened upon our position. Some of them had been left badly mutilated by U.S. collateral bomb damage and we helped them pick sunflower seeds to sell at the market, income they now depended upon to live. Instead of not valuing their lives as highly as ours and not caring about Iraqi “savages” and “killing them all”, we listened, learned, and helped where we could.

Why? A year earlier, on our first deployment, we watched the smiles and waves of the populace that had greeted us as liberators from Saddam turn into scowls and later into IEDs that were killing our guys on the roads. We wore out our welcome as our convoys and checkpoints ground the city to a halt. Our cordon and search operations disrupted homes. Political decisions such as disbanding the Iraqi Army and de-Baathification fueled an insurgency that became a call to international Jihad. The people no longer wanted us there. It was all “collateral damage”—physical, political, societal, and otherwise—to a military operation that had no clear guidance from Washington.

As a Scout/Sniper, I had been trained and given the job of taking advantage of opportunities to win battles with one or several well-placed shots. This placed my thinking in a different realm. In my mind, my job was “one shot, one kill.” Instead of creating a thousand new insurgents by killing five “savages”, we could kill a thousand insurgents by creating five friends. Taking the population—the center or gravity in counterinsurgency—away from the enemy would prevent new insurgents as much as kill them. In many ways, our job was the delicate brain surgery that Washington was attempting to perform in Iraq with the hammer that is the U.S. military. We were cutting out the cancer, one bad guy at a time. If policymakers had considered the “collateral damage” invading Iraq would cause, many things would be different there today.

In my battle, I did not raid or fire explosive munitions into houses. I only unleashed one 7.62 millimeter bullet when I was sure it was going to hit the one enemy combatant it was meant for. No “precision munition” or laser-guided bomb can claim that. Reducing “collateral damage” to women, children, and non-combatants was a priority and eliminating extremists with one bullet was how I went about it. Snipers are not cold-blooded murderers. Forget all those bashing American Sniper in the media. In our fight, two men went outside the wire alone with nothing but their wits, their skills, and their rifles with the intent to win the war one bullet at a time. If that is not bravery, I don’t know what is.

 

[Photo: Flickr CC: The U.S. Army]

 

Matt Victoriano

 

Matt Victoriano was a Scout/Sniper Team Leader with 1st Battalion 4th Marines from 2000 to 2004. He was recently honored as a White House Champion of Change for his entrepreneurial work helping veterans and the community in Durham, NC.