Conflict abroad fosters tensions at home

These are the times when we define ourselves — as individuals and as nations. Are we confronters or evaders? Philosophers or actors? We pursue our personal destinies in our support, condemnation or indifference regarding our nation's pursuit of its destiny. The result: the United States in war abroad and in turmoil at home. While we all agree that the attacks were horrific and unjustifiable and that a rapid response was desirable, the responses we condone diverge dramatically. The impassioned dissension among Americans is echoed here on campus, with the Princeton Committee Against Terrorism advocating war and the Princeton Peace Network impugning it.

No surprise that our emotions are running high, with so much at stake. Countless lives are in jeopardy, in the United States and the Middle East, given the endless possibilities for physical, chemical and biological warfare, and the presence of nuclear weapons simpler than many household appliances. We have enough reason for disquiet without adding clashes on the homefront to the list. Yet each side accuses the other of knee-jerk reactions: The patriots call the pacifists habitual apologists and anti-Americans, and the pacifists label the patriots' military response an act of fury and rage.

Surely there is some confusion on both sides. The fact that very few have crossed party lines supports this point. If there were any broadly convincing facts, we might find people who traditionally supported the U.S. stance opposing the war, or vice versa. But those who have always been in favor of American foreign policy are the strongest supporters of the war effort, and those who have always been most cynical of it are the strongest detractors. This is not to say that neither side has good reason for its position, merely that each has the same kind of reasons as before. It seems that everyone is using these events to pursue their personal ends.

What else can we do? No one knows whether the balance of the consequences of war will be positive or negative. Will the civilian lives lost while unbalancing the Taliban outweigh the oppression of the Afghan people under that fundamentalist regime? Will the swift and forceful response against terrorists deter terrorism or incite further anti-American hate? Will the Northern Alliance be enough of an improvement over the Taliban to justify the costs of the operation? We have no clue. The variables are infinite and immeasurable, and that's that. One simply can't use such arguments to justify a decision of war vs. peace. Only the smaller scale decisions lend themselves to such calculations: All else being equal, the fewer civilians we kill, the better. At least we can agree on that.

On the issue of war vs. peace, we should agree to disagree. Since we can't demonstrate the moral superiority of our position, we should respect others' positions, even if they contradict our own.

That's not to say that morality is silent here. Not only can we employ moral argument to press the government to minimize citizen casualties and allow extensive press coverage of our attacks, we can urge peaceful nations to do more to prevent further terrorism and promote freedom from oppression. Furthermore, we can criticize reasons voiced as justification of a stance. Although we can't accuse people of knee-jerk reactions on the basis of their conclusions, we can levy that accusation if they reached their conclusion on hasty and faulty reasoning.

We can't easily judge haste, but we can sometimes spot faults in logic. One example is the few pacifists — like Noam Chomsky — who claim that war is wrong because it must involve the loss of innocent life. We can all agree that civilian deaths are terrible. But virtually none of us could reasonably defend the claim that we should never take a blameless person's life. Even the staunchest supporters of personal rights recognize that we would be justified in killing one innocent civilian to save a million others. The same charge of invalid argument applies to the many patriots who claim that the war is justified because "they" attacked the United States first. Contrary to the simplified perspective portrayed by the press, we — not they — declared war. No sovereign nation has been implicated in the hijackings. The Taliban's failure to hand over Osama bin Laden at first request — without convincing evidence or the possibility for negotiation — does not constitute an attack or an act of war.

But neither all pacifists, nor all patriots, can be painted with the same brush. There are reasonable people making reasonable arguments on both sides of this debate. We all feel pressure to support one side or the other. But you need not pick a side; you can point to the uncertain ramifications and embrace both perspectives — insofar as they both intend the best world for everyone. Do not let your freedom be undermined by those who decree "if you're not with us, you're against us." Such threats are an insidious attempt to replace complicated moral reasoning with fear. It is also the surest sign of insecurity in the rational justification of one's position. I note with deep regret that this is the course the United States government has chosen.

If we must fight this war abroad, let's do it without fighting a war at home. Given the great uncertainty and the contradicting need for a rapid and forceful response, we would benefit the world most by understanding and respecting each other on the homefront. There are valid concerns on both sides. Away from the action, we have the luxury of giving them their due attention. Kai M.A. Chan is an ecology and evolutionary biology graduate student from Toronto, Ontario. He can be reached at kaichan@princeton.edu.