when morally engaged are they
JUST WARRIORS?
by
DEANE-PETER BAKER
__________________________________
Deane-Peter
Baker is assistant professor of philosophy in the department
of leadership, ethics and law at the US Naval Academy and author
of Just Warriors, Inc. (Continuum 2011). This is the
author’s opinion and not that of the US Naval Academy.
In
its most recent annual session, the United Nations Human Rights
Council (UNHRC) passed a resolution which addresses “The
use of mercenaries as a means of violating human rights and
impeding the exercise of the right of peoples to self-determination”.
In the resolution, the UNHRC declares itself, among other things,
to be “Extremely alarmed and concerned about recent mercenary
activities in developing countries in various parts of the world,
in particular in areas of conflict, and the threat they pose
to the integrity and respect of the constitutional order of
the affected countries.”
When
as august and influential a body as the UNHRC expresses itself
to be “extremely alarmed and concerned,” presumably
this should make us sit up and take notice. Perhaps, indeed,
it should cause us to have the occasional sleepless night. I
confess, however, that reading the Council’s resolution
(let’s just call it “the mercenary resolution”)
did not fill me with anxiety and disquiet. Instead, I found
it more than a little puzzling.
Consider
first the title of the mercenary resolution. It’s directed
against “The use of mercenaries as a means of violating
human rights and impeding the exercise of the right of peoples
to self-determination.” That certainly sounds like something
to be concerned about. After all, violating human rights and
the self-determination of peoples is undoubtedly a bad thing.
But, on reflection, it seems somewhat odd for the resolution
to be focused on mercenaries. To see why this is so, consider
another, fictional, UNHRC resolution directed against “The
use of boxcutters as a means of hijacking passenger aircraft
in order to crash them into buildings and commit mass murder
and violate state sovereignty.” If I were to read the
title of such a UNHRC resolution my first instinct would undoubtedly
be that this is something I’d want to support. But then
it would be very odd indeed if the resolution turned out to
be all about the evils of boxcutters. That would seem to miss
the point, to say the least.
Perhaps,
however, we might imagine from its title that the point of the
mercenary resolution is to delineate inappropriate uses of mercenary
forces (violating human rights, impeding peoples’ self-determination)
from legitimate uses of mercenaries. If that were so, then focusing
the resolution on mercenaries would make some sense. It turns
out, however, that this is not the case. As we read on further
we find the UNHRC expressing itself to be “Convinced that,
notwithstanding the way in which mercenaries or mercenary-related
activities are used or the form they take to acquire a semblance
of legitimacy, they are a threat to peace, security and the
self-determination of peoples and an obstacle to the enjoyment
of human rights by peoples.” So, then, no matter how they
are used and no matter what form they take, mercenaries are
nonetheless a threat to peace, security, the self-determination
of peoples and human rights.
Seriously?
Imagine how odd an analogous claim would be if it appeared as
part of our imaginary boxcutter resolution: “Convinced
that, notwithstanding the way in which boxcutters or boxcutter-related
activities (what could this possibly mean?) are used or the
form they take to acquire a semblance of legitimacy, they are
a threat to airline passengers and crew, office workers, bystanders
and state sovereignty.” Such a statement is patently absurd
in the case of boxcutters, so why does the UNHRC think the apparently
equivalent statement about mercenaries is not absurd?
Perhaps
the answer lies in some intrinsic difference between the nature
of mercenaries and the nature of boxcutters. After all, it might
be argued, boxcutters are mere tools, with no particular propensity
to either a good or evil use of their cutting abilities. Mercenaries,
on the other hand (so we can imagine the argument continuing),
have some intrinsic propensity to be used for evil, making the
mercenary more like a dedicated torture device, such as an iron
maiden, than a boxcutter.
Following
this logic, the idea must be that this intrinsic propensity
to be used for evil makes it entirely sensible to consider mercenaries
to be threatening no matter what they’re actually used
for or what controls are in place regulating their use. (I take
it that the latter is what the mercenary resolution is getting
at when it refers to “the form they take to acquire a
semblance of legitimacy,” though the meaning of the phrase
is certainly not clear). To flip to the iron maiden analogy,
perhaps it might indeed make some kind of sense to think of
the iron maiden as being threatening even if its owner only
ever used it as a somewhat inefficient though entertaining tool
for making orange juice at parties, and even if it were kept
under lock and key and only ever brought out and used under
the close scrutiny of an officer of the law. Perhaps, though
frankly I don’t find myself breaking into a sweat at the
very thought of that scenario. But even if we grant that some
things can be threatening regardless of how they are used or
controlled, does it really make sense to think of mercenaries
as being more like iron maidens than boxcutters?
One
reason to think that mercenaries are not like iron maidens is
that, while it’s pretty easy to see what’s morally
problematic about the nature of iron maidens – they’re
designed solely for the purpose of committing acts of torture
– it turns out to be rather difficult to pin down the
moral “badness” that’s generally assumed to
be inherent in mercenaries, or to even work out what, exactly,
a mercenary is.
What,
for example, is the morally odious feature that places the mercenaries
of the Flying Tigers of WWII (American airmen under contract
to the Chinese government who fought against Japanese imperialism
prior to the United States’ entry into the war) in the
same category as Bob Denard, the notorious French soldier-for-hire
who roamed Africa for three decades, and whose activities included
four attempts to overthrow the government of the Comoros? Or,
for that matter, what common feature entitles the UNHRC to also
heap blanket condemnation on the “private companies offering
military assistance, consultancy and other military and security-related
services on the international market” that the mercenary
report also deems to fall into the morally abhorrent category
of “mercenary?”
It
doesn’t take all that much head-scratching to realize
that there are no good definitions of the word mercenary that
both capture the moral badness that is presumed to be inherent
in that term and is also a good fit to the characteristics displayed
by all those that the UNHRC and others would like to paint with
this particular brush. The problem with mercenaries can’t
simply be that they do what they do for money – most people
do the jobs they do at least in part for that pay check at the
end of the month, and they don’t thereby earn moral excoriation.
Nor can the problem be that mercenaries engage in combat operations
for money. For one thing, most of those that the UNHRC would
like to call mercenaries simply don’t do combat operations.
They provide advice and training, they supply and service equipment,
they provide logistical support and the like, and a small minority
use guns to guard things in dangerous places (rather like the
numerous security guards who guard things in South Africa, the
dangerous place I hail from). But even if there were private
contractors providing genuine combat services (as, say Executive
Outcomes did in the 1990s under contract to the governments
of Angola and Sierra Leone), it would be pretty hypocritical
to condemn them for doing so for money, given that we generally
honour and praise those members of our nation’s Armed
Forces who fight at the front line – even though they
receive a pay check at the end of every month. True, we would
certainly consider someone who would do anything for money,
and who valued money above all else, to have gone over to the
moral dark side. Adrian Walsh and Tony Lynch of the University
of New England in Australia have coined the delightful term
“lucrepath” to describe such a person. But it’s
pretty obvious that only a small portion, at best, of those
that the UNHRC seeks to tarnish with the label mercenary are
actually lucrepaths, and that those inflicted with lucrepathology
are to be found in all walks of life, not merely among the ranks
of the mercenary hordes that the UNHRC seems so concerned about.
It
is, of course, undeniable that (to use a more morally neutral
term) some contracted combatants have been involved in morally
questionable activities. But this is an unfortunate, but probably
inescapable, feature of the existence and use of military forces
in general. Far, far more atrocities and coups have been carried
out by national military forces than have been carried out by
contracted combatants. Once one recognizes that contracted combatants
employed by states stand in essentially the same fundamental
relationship to those states as do the states’ national
military forces – both groups are agents of the state
– it becomes increasingly difficult to draw a neat moral
line between them. This point explains the (I hope excusable)
pun in the title of my book Just
Warriors, Inc. My claim is not that all
contracted combatants are just in the moral sense – that
would be obviously absurd – but rather that they are just
(merely) combatants, and what defines whether or not they are
just (moral) warriors are essentially the same features that
define whether or not the soldiers, sailors, airmen or marines
of a nation’s armed forces are (morally) just. Some uniformed
personnel fail this test, as do some contracted combatants.
But the opposite is also true – some military personnel
are worthy of honour and respect, and there are no good reasons
to believe that the same could not be true of some contracted
combatants.
The
UNHRC, it seems to me, would be far better served by focusing
less on “the menace posed by the activities of mercenaries”
and instead focusing its attention on the states or non-state
groups that employ contracted combatants – or militia
forces, or bandits, or secret police, or soldiers, or whomever
– to violate human rights or impede the exercise of the
right of peoples to self-determination. Contracted combatants,
like their uniformed colleagues, are (as a category at least)
more like boxcutters than iron maidens. They can be used for
good or for harm. What matters then, is who uses them, and for
what purpose.