Religion in the U.S. Military
Religion is a vital and complex subject one must come to terms with if one is to understand the U.S. military. It plays out in a number of different dimensions.
Religion also plays an important role in helping individual military members understand themselves and their role in the military. The chapter “Is Just War Spirituality Possible” attempts to explore the tension between core Christian ethics and the requirement that military personnel must be prepared to kill and explores the psychological challenges posed by that tension.
In recent years it has been the source of considerable tension and controversy within the military as individuals of strong religious conviction struggle to reconcile their strong personal convictions with their role as sworn defenders of the U.S. Constitution. In their Constitutional role, they must reconcile the right to free exercise of religion for themselves and all other members of the service with the prohibition on the establishment of any particular religion as agents of the U.S. government. Some, most notably from the Evangelical Protestant community (with its strong emphasis on the “Great Commission” and the requirement to proselytize), have either engaged in inappropriate use of the authority of their rank to proselytize or have felt constrained by instruction not to do so. A couple of the chapters in this section will address that controversy.
“Christianity and Weapons of Mass Destruction” explores the ethical implications for weapons of mass destruction of a kind of apocalyptic thinking that is quite prevalent in many Evangelical communities (most of whom, fortunately, don't really follow through on those ethical implications).
“Whether (Modern, American) Soldiers, Too, Can be Saved” borrows the title of one of Martin Luther's famous essays to explore the ethical basis for the Christian soldier given the realities of what modern U.S. soldiers actually do.
The phrase “A Force for Good” has, in recent years, been adopted as a slogan for the military forces of the United Kingdom and also in a slightly variant form by the U.S. Navy. The essay, “A Force for (Relative) Good: An Augustinian Perspective” explores the sense in which that might be a truthful and honest slogan in light of the counterintuitive nature of the application of “good” to powerful military forces. It does so by exploring Augustine's subtle concepts of the kinds of good possible in human life as we experience it at present.
In this chapter, I wish to explore a topic that I find troubling and difficult and that I suffer a number of disadvantages in even attempting to address. But it is a fundamental question that lies at the heart of the cogency of the entire enterprise of Christian just war thinking. The question is this: is it possible, in the midst of combat, to maintain the kinds of attitudes and the psychological states that Christian just war writers hold out as the moral ideal for the Christian soldier? Following that discussion, I will take up an issue that is perhaps even more troubling: the rise among some of the ranks of the U.S. military of a new “holy war” mentality that frames much of the current U.S. military engagement in the world in terms of “spiritual warfare.”
The Classical Normative Christian View of Soldiering
From the very beginning of an explicit embrace of the moral legitimacy of military service by Christians, there has been a strong normative view of the special moral attitudes appropriate to Christian soldiering. Even though that tradition is ancient and relatively consistent, there are reasons to be skeptical about it from the outset. The most obvious reason for skepticism is that neither I nor most of the Christian writers who advocate this unique spirituality for the soldier have ever experienced the emotions and terror of an actual combat environment. So my exploration of this topic may be understood as attempting to sketch out a framing of a fundamental question for which any number of others might usefully contribute. The reasons given for a unique Christian spirituality of soldiering are theological and normative. But the possibility of actually sustaining those attitudes in the midst of the reality of war is an issue that invites comment from the social science perspective. Perhaps even more important, it requires observations from reflective and experienced combat veterans who often (and understandably) question whether those of us who haven't “been there and done that” can possibly say anything useful about their moral world.1
So, with those fears and qualifications firmly before us, let us commence. From the very beginning of Christian just war thinking, the idea that what fundamentally distinguishes the Christian soldier from others, and that what makes his conduct in combat morally permissible, is a unique mental set of attitudes and beliefs. We find this, for example, in one of the most famous of all early Christian just war documents, Augustine's famous Letter 189 to Count Boniface, the military commander of the Roman army in his area. Since the letter is rich in many ideas, I cite it at some length:
Do not think that it is impossible for any one to please God while engaged in active military service. Among such persons was the holy David, to whom God gave so great a testimony … Among them were also the soldiers who, when they had come to be baptized by John,—the sacred forerunner of the Lord, and the friend of the Bridegroom, of whom the Lord says: Among them that are born of women there has not arisen a greater than John the Baptist, Matthew 11:11—and had inquired of him what they should do, received the answer, Do violence to no man, neither accuse any falsely; and be content with your wages. Luke 3:14 Certainly he did not prohibit them to serve as soldiers when he commanded them to be content with their pay for the service.
They occupy indeed a higher place before God who, abandoning all these secular employments, serve Him with the strictest chastity; but every one, as the apostle says, has his proper gift of God, one after this manner, and another after that. 1 Corinthians 7:7 Some, then, in praying for you, fight against your invisible enemies; you, in fighting for them, contend against the barbarians, their visible enemies. Would that one faith existed in all, for then there would be less weary struggling, and the devil with his angels would be more easily conquered; but since it is necessary in this life that the citizens of the kingdom of heaven should be subjected to temptations among erring and impious men, that they may be exercised, and tried as gold in the furnace, Wisdom 3:6 we ought not before the appointed time to desire to live with those alone who are holy and righteous, so that, by patience, we may deserve to receive this blessedness in its proper time.
Think, then, of this first of all, when you are arming for the battle, that even your bodily strength is a gift of God; for, considering this, you will not employ the gift of God against God. For, when faith is pledged, it is to be kept even with the enemy against whom the war is waged, how much more with the friend for whom the battle is fought! Peace should be the object of your desire; war should be waged only as a necessity, and waged only that God may by it deliver men from the necessity and preserve them in peace. For peace is not sought in order to the kindling of war, but war is waged in order that peace may be obtained. Therefore, even in waging war, cherish the spirit of a peacemaker, that, by conquering those whom you attack, you may lead them back to the advantages of peace; for our Lord says: Blessed are the peacemakers; for they shall be called the children of God. Matthew 5:9 If, however, peace among men be so sweet as procuring temporal safety, how much sweeter is that peace with God which procures for men the eternal felicity of the angels! Let necessity, therefore, and not your will, slay the enemy who fights against you. As violence is used towards him who rebels and resists, so mercy is due to the vanquished or the captive, especially in the case in which future troubling of the peace is not to be feared.
I will now discuss some of the major ideas represented in Augustine's reflections. First (and most obvious) is Augustine's endorsement of the life of military service as a legitimate calling for the Christian (albeit with the qualification that it is not the highest form of Christian life). But it is a “calling” from God. Second (and somewhat ominous) is the suggestion that if “one faith existed in all,” there would be no occasion for military conflict. I call this “ominous” because it seems to invite militarized utopianism's hope of imposing one faith on all as a means to earthly peace. Further, it seems significantly dissonant with the more somber estimate of the highest possibilities of the “earthly city” as we find them articulated in The City of God—a view I think is Augustine's more considered opinion. Third, Augustine applies Jesus' saying “Blessed are the peacemakers” to the conscientious soldier, seeing him as being forced by “necessity” and not his own will to do the fighting.
This suggests that the morally legitimate Christian soldier is always fighting on the defensive side—the disruption of the antecedent peace having come from the adversary. Hence, peace is the object of the soldier's actions. Most provocatively, Augustine counsels the soldier, even in the midst of fighting, to “cherish the spirit of the peacemaker.” Needless to say, the psychological plausibility of that admonition is worthy of some serious critical reflection. Last, Augustine stresses the mercy due to the vanquished adversary, implicitly endorsing the idea of the fundamental moral equality of soldiers on both sides and planting the seeds that will flourish in the Geneva Convention many centuries later.
A couple of points about the specific historical context in which Augustine is writing are in order. The peace Augustine is concerned to protect is, of course, the Pax Romana. That is important to note for a couple of reasons. First, it is a “peace” built on the foundation of Roman conquest and occupation of the entire Mediterranean area. That fact deeply informs Augustine's sober reflections on the kind of “peace” that is possibly for the Earthly City in City of God. Second, the disruption of that peace is not merely a local conflict. Augustine is writing after the city of Rome itself has already fallen and when what lies on the horizon is the collapse of the whole of Roman civilization itself, at least in the Latin Western part of the Empire. Consequently, the military defense Augustine is endorsing is not a mere garden-variety interstate conflict (to speak anachronistically, since the nation-state lies far in the future). Rather, he is endorsing the use of force to maintain an entire interconnected web of culture, civilization, art, and tradition that is being threatened at its very foundation (and that, indeed, does fall in the near future!).
This context points to important questions about the transferability of Augustine's moral permission for military service to the contemporary context. Although he assumes that Boniface's actions are legitimate because he is engaged in an attempt to restore a condition of peace that was the status quo ante, only a small minority of contemporary uses of military force conform to that pattern. However, the fact that the challenge to Rome was indeed an attack on the very foundations of Roman civilization itself points to suggestive parallels with the aspirations of groups like al Qaeda in the contemporary situation. At the very least, the nature of that conflict more closely resembles Augustine's context than most of the wars fought between nation-states since the creation of the Westphalian international system in the seventeenth century.
But for the purposes of this chapter, the most important and challenging aspect of the Augustinian permission for military service lies in his attitudinal requirements. Christian ethics generally has always reserved pride of place for what the Germans call Gesinnungsethik, or ethic of intention. In other words, the emphasis in Christian ethics has always been placed on the intentional state of the actor as much as, if not more than, on the action performed. For example, Jesus says in Matthew 5:27 “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery;’ but I tell you that everyone who gazes at a woman to lust after her has committed adultery with her already in his heart.” Thomas Aquinas argues that one of the reasons the Natural and Human Law (moral requirements knowable by human reason) must be supplemented with a Divine Law directly from God is that “man is not competent to judge of interior movements, that are hidden, but only of exterior acts which appear: and yet for the perfection of virtue it is necessary for man to conduct himself aright in both kinds of acts. Consequently human law could not sufficiently curb and direct interior acts; and it was necessary for this purpose that a Divine law should supervene.”2
From these quotes (and many similar ones one could cite from other Christian authors) one can see clearly the core of the uniquely Christian view of legitimate soldiering. It lies in the attitude of the soldier (assuming the overall justice of the cause in the first place). The soldier kills, but not from personal animus. The soldier fights, but with a sense of “sad necessity” (as Augustine says regarding the judge who must condemn the criminal). The soldier sustains, even in the midst of battle, the “spirit of the peacemaker.” The soldier maintains awareness that the adversary he must slay is not evil, but merely a human being who at the moment poses a threat. Further, this awareness requires that the surrendered, wounded, or captured adversary deserves benevolent treatment the moment he no longer remains a threat. Of course there are behavioral constraints as well, but assuming the soldier's conduct falls within the range of permissible behaviors, the distinctively Christian moral requirement is attitudinal.
All of this carries over, of course, into much of the secular international legal framework for modern war. Soldiers in the Westphalian system are traditionally viewed as moral equals. They are normally not held responsible for the jus ad bellum aspects of the wars they fight. The POW conventions capture the idea of moral equality in their guarantees of benevolent quarantine if captured. But to reiterate, these secular understandings deal only with the externals of behavior and would not necessarily concern themselves (as a spiritual understanding of the question would) with the interior state of the agent.
Despite these pretty clear in-principle guidelines, it is common knowledge that atrocities against the surrendered occur in every war. Few conflicts have even approximated the normative standards for treatment of prisoners on both sides. Many soldiers, especially in prolonged conflicts and unconventional war, find their attitudes toward the enemy—even the enemy civilian population—to devolve into contempt and even hatred.
But the question of greatest interest from a normative perspective is not addressed by merely noting descriptively that such things happen. The normative question is whether the attitudinal expectations of the Christian tradition are realistic in the first place—having been crafted, it must be noted, almost entirely by theologians and academics far removed from the realities of combat. Further, the author falls into the same class of writers far removed from the realities of the central question—and therefore painfully aware of the limits of his own authority to opine on the question. Nevertheless, since it is the central question of the normative Christian tradition on this point, we must at least make the effort to clarify it.
One place to start is J. Glenn Gray's profound and important classic, The Warriors: Reflections on Men in Battle. A trained philosopher, Gray entered World War II with the intention of writing a philosophical reflection on his wartime experience, and the book that resulted is one of the most profound reflections on the combat experience. He begins his chapter on “images of the enemy” with this reflection: “The basic aim of a nation at war in establishing an image of the enemy is to distinguish as sharply as possible the act of killing from the act of murder by making the former into one deserving of all honor and praise.”3
He continues as follows: “Most soldiers are able to kill and be killed more easily in warfare if they possess an image of the enemy sufficiently evil to inspire hatred and repugnance”4 Further, “The more cramped, painful, and unbearable his physical and psychological environment becomes, the more he is likely to be filled with a burning vengeance, which demands action for its alleviation.”5 If that is right, of course, Gray is implicitly suggesting that even the attempt to maintain the normative “Christian” attitude about the enemy would make the soldier's job at a minimum psychologically extremely difficult—and, perhaps, impossible.
Gray goes on to distinguish four common attitudes soldiers typically have toward the enemy. This is, of course, what social scientists would call an “ideal type” characterization. In the actual psychology of individuals, no doubt some or all blur. Nevertheless, the typology is useful for purposes of analysis.
The first he calls “comrades in arms.”6 In this understanding, the soldier sees herself as a “technologist,” a possessor of specialized competencies and skills. Those skills are used in nonpolitical service of the state. The fact that the adversary is also a skilled professional is a cause for professional admiration, and defeating the adversary is a source of pride in proportion to those perceived skills. “The enemy was simply doing his duty, as you are expected to do yours. The more damage he has wreaked, the greater your pride in subduing him.”7
Gray says that “this image of the enemy may be preservative of human integrity, as some other images are not.”8 It is also, in secular guise, perhaps the closest analogue to the classical normative Christian image. But Gray notes it is increasingly hard to maintain—and indeed seems to many distasteful. The sources of this distaste are many. It might seem to ...