Just War: Thinking Biblically about Military Force (Or, Why I’d Never Vote for Rubio)

The Christian Answer from the Past for Today: Just War

I’ve spent a lot of time this campaign season thinking about foreign policy and war. With all that’s been going on in the Middle East lately, and with the insane Republican debates, this can’t be a surprise. While thinking about all of this, I decided to go back and study war theologically. I wanted to see what respected Bible teachers and theologians throughout Church history have thought. What is a Biblical way of approaching a just war and military force? The results were surprising. There has been quite a lot of agreement in Church history on war. (There have always been pacifists in the minority, but most everyone else agrees pretty decently.) I can’t think of any other topic in Christian theology which enjoys this kind of consensus. So what did I find?

Most Christian answers about war are summed up in what we now call “just war theory.” Just war theory, if you haven’t heard of it, is a set of strict principles for figuring out when war is justified, and how it can be carried out justly, based on Biblical teaching. It can be traced back at least to Saint Augustine, and has been adopted by many others since then. It’s been accepted all over the board by Baptists, the Reformed, Catholics, Lutherans, Anglicans, and many others. Given its place as almost the consensus of the universal Church through history, I suspect it’s worth accepting.

Just war theory is divided into two parts. The first part, called jus ad bellum, is about the right to go to war. It gives criteria for when war is justified. The second part, called jus in bello, is about how to go to war righteously and justly. What I’d like to do briefly is go over these criteria, explain them, and see how they apply to modern political debates. Onward, then.

When to Fight a Just War

The principles of when to fight a war are founded on the Biblical convictions that violence is never desirable (Matt. 5:8, 38-41), peace should be the first goal (Deut. 20:10), and that the oppressed must be defended (Prov. 31:9). Here they are, six in all (though the number varies depending who you ask).

Just cause
Any war must have a right reason. Not every reason is okay. Going to war just to claim land, punish enemies, or settle rivalries is evil. Generally, most Christian thinkers have said the only certainly just cause for war is defense of the people, or of an allied people, against a foreign enemy on the attack. Only if innocent lives, homes, and rights are going to be taken away can it be right to go to war.
This criteria on its own is essential, of course, but not enough. A lot of things might be justified by possible threats. So we have 6 more to go go through.
This part means that the suffering expected or already endured must be enough to justify all the violence that will be generated by the war. If you’re not suffering much, it is not right to kill a bunch of people to fix it. For a really simple example, it would not be right to go to war over sinfully high gas prices.
I believe this criteria has a lot to say about the Middle East right now. How many of the interventions we are in now or will be in cause more suffering than was already being experienced by the people we claim to defend?
Proper authority
Scripture teaches that God has providentially put our government leaders into their positions of authority and uses them to carry out justice and punish wrongdoers (see Romans 13). Any war, therefore, must be decided and declared by the proper authorities. You can’t just round up a bunch of people with guns and decide on the basis of the other just war criteria that you’re going to start fighting.
This is also a concern for modern foreign policy issues. The Constitution only authorizes Congress to declare war. The President, nonetheless, has for some time now been able to freely use military force without this authorization. Naturally, this is a problem.
Right intention
Similar to the first people, the rule of a right intention means that the war must be carried out strictly for the purpose of whatever just cause might authorize it. It is not okay to go to war without someone just because you want a resource they have, even under pretenses of national security.
High likelihood of success
There is no sense wasting lives and killing people if you’re not going to succeed. For a war effort to be justified, it must have a significant chance of accomplishing its purpose. People should never have to fight and die for a lost cause.
Even if nothing else did, this rules out the war Saudi Arabia is waging against Yemen. They are destroying the country to no avail at all. Today, they are no closer to success than when they began, yet the U.S. government, especially including Hillary Clinton and Senator Marco Rubio, is supporting them. This also rules out taking any military action to topple Assad. The chances are absolutely huge that our hopes of helping the people will ultimately fail and they will end up under ISIS control (at best).
Last resort
Obviously, war should be an absolute last resort. All other options must be exhausted before resorting to death and destruction. This is the rule which God gave Israel when dealing with most general warfare (Deut. 20:10), and I believe it is also common sense. Do not kill when you still have other ways to deal with a problem.
Again, Marco Rubio is not my friend on this, and same with several other Republican candidates (and Hillary Clinton). Most of them are quite willing to jump to military action at the first sign of trouble, and detest using robust diplomacy (see: opposition to the Iranian nuclear deal).

How to Fight a Just War

Of course, it is not enough just to be justified in going to war. We must also behave righteously during war, and reject all notions that “anything goes.” Here are the traditional principles for a just war’s execution:

It is essential to distinguish between innocent civilians and combatants. It is clearly wrong to attack civilian targets with no military purpose, or to attack neutral places. I don’t think this needs much elaboration, but I should add this also counts against the war on Yemen (and thus Rubio and Clinton), since reports come in by the truckload of Saudi soldiers intentionally bombing civilian targets.
The negative results/collateral damage of a military action must make sense in relation to what is being accomplished. If your plan to block off one road involves killing 100 kids, you should go back to the drawing board (if not the nuthouse). This is another problem with Yemen, since most of the damage being done to the whole nation is the gradual starvation of the civilian population to little military advantage. Cruz is also indicted by this point, perhaps in combination with the first, for his reckless plan to “carpet bomb” ISIS.
Military necessity
Every military action must have an actual military purpose. Never attack without a cause and a clear advantage or goal in mind. This is exactly the opposite of what terrorists like to do.
Fair POW treatment
Sensibly enough, one of the rules is to treat any prisoners of war as human beings with God-given rights, rather than as bugs or pond scum. Do not torture, mistreat, or indefinitely detain them.
No evil means
Finally, there should be no war means used that are plainly evil. Raping and pillaging is unacceptable. Using uncontrollable, indiscriminate weaponry is forbidden (this includes nukes). A particular nuance of this point combined with the point of distinction means that you can never use civilian deaths. If there is collateral damage, it must be a side effect, not part of the plan. You can’t purposely kill innocents to accomplish a military goal (which is why many strict just war theories condemn the WWII atomic bombings).

Wrapping Up

Well, that’s the basic outline of just war theory as traditionally and Biblically taught by the Church’s greatest theologians and preachers. You may disagree with a point or two, I suppose, but if so I would advise prayerful consideration. I feel this is a very Biblical model, and because I think so I cannot support politicians who so blatantly trample on some of its key principles, such as Hillary Clinton, Marco Rubio, Chris Christie, and a handful of others. In fact, with just war theory in mind, Rand Paul is probably the only candidate I could like. But anyway, I hope this is helpful or at least thought-provoking for you all.

Further Reading

The Institutes of the Christian Religion by John Calvin, book 4, chapter 20.

The City of God by St. Augustine.

Summa Theologica by Thomas Aquinas.

“Bahsen on War” – The American Vision

Just War: Thinking Biblically about Military Force (Or, Why I’d Never Vote for Rubio)

Augustine on Open Theism

Ever heard of open theism? If you haven’t, open theism is an umbrella term for a variety of doctrines of God which hold this in common: God does not have total foreknowledge of all future events. For most of my readers, I’m sure this an unfamiliar and very bizarre sounding position, but unfortunately open theism does have growing supports in groups which otherwise appear to be Evangelical. Major supporters include Clark Pinnock, Gregory Boyd, and John Sanders.

Here, I have no interest in providing my own arguments against open theism. There are plenty of those to go around already. Nor will I spend time explaining why open theism’s error is actually less Biblically obvious than many people assume. That can also be saved for later.

What I actually am interested in doing here is quoting Saint Augustine on this matter. I’ve recently begun reading (well, listening to) The City of God, and in the course of this work Augustine comes to refute the error of Cicero, a pagan philosopher who denied God’s foreknowledge to preserve human free will. Since this is almost exactly the project of modern open theists, I thought it would be worth sharing Augustine’s response. So without further ado, here’s the argument:

And this [refuting the Stoic concepts of prophecy, fate, and divination] he attempts to accomplish by denying that there is any knowledge of future things, and maintains with all his might that there is no such knowledge either in God or man, and that there is no prediction of events. Thus he both denies the foreknowledge of God, and attempts by vain arguments, and by opposing to himself certain oracles very easy to be refuted, to overthrow all prophecy, even such as is clearer than the light (though even these oracles are not refuted by him).

I should break for a moment to mention that, unlike Cicero, open theists do not rule out all prophecy. Some believe God can predict events with great precision like intelligent people but better, and others simply argue that, when God wishes, He can ensure that His will for the future is carried out, though at the expense of human accountability.

But, in refuting these conjectures of the mathematicians, his argument is triumphant, because truly these are such as destroy and refute themselves. Nevertheless, they are far more tolerable who assert the fatal influence of the stars than they who deny the foreknowledge of future events. For, to confess that God exists, and at the same time to deny that He has foreknowledge of future things, is the most manifest folly. This Cicero himself saw, and therefore to assert the doctrine embodied in the words of Scripture, “The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God.” That, however, he did not do in his own person, for he saw how odious and offensive such an opinion would be; and therefore, in his book on the nature of the gods, he makes Cotta dispute concerning this against the Stoics, and preferred to give his own opinion in favor of Lucilius Balbus, to whom he assigned the defence of the Stoical position, rather than in favor of Cotta, who maintained that no divinity exists. However, in his book on divination, he in his own person most openly opposes the doctrine of the prescience of future things. But all this he seems to do in order that he may not grant the doctrine of fate, and by so doing destroy free will. For he thinks that, the knowledge of future things being once conceded, fate follows as so necessary a consequence that it cannot be denied.

But, let these perplexing debatings and disputations of the philosophers go on as they may, we, in order that we may confess the most high and true God Himself, do confess His will, supreme power, and prescience. Neither let us be afraid lest, after all, we do not do by will that which we do by will, because He, whose foreknowledge is infallible, foreknew that we would do it. It was this which Cicero was afraid of, and therefore opposed foreknowledge. The Stoics also maintained that all things do not come to pass by necessity, although they contended that all things happen according to destiny. What is it, then, that Cicero feared in the prescience of future things? Doubtless it was this,—that if all future things have been foreknown, they will happen in the order in which they have been foreknown; and if they come to pass in this order, there is a certain order of things foreknown by God; and if a certain order of things, then a certain order of causes, for nothing can happen which is not preceded by some efficient cause. But if there is a certain order of causes according to which everything happens which does happen, then by fate, says he, all things happen which do happen. But if this be so, then is there nothing in our own power, and there is no such thing as freedom of will; and if we grant that, says he, the whole economy of human life is subverted. In vain are laws enacted. In vain are reproaches, praises, chidings, exhortations had recourse to; and there is no justice whatever in the appointment of rewards for the good, and punishments for the wicked. And that consequences so disgraceful, and absurd, and pernicious to humanity may not follow, Cicero chooses to reject the foreknowledge of future things, and shuts up the religious mind to this alternative, to make choice between two things, either that something is in our own power, or that there is foreknowledge,—both of which cannot be true; but if the one is affirmed, the other is thereby denied. He therefore, like a truly great and wise man, and one who consulted very much and very skillfully for the good of humanity, of those two chose the freedom of the will, to confirm which he denied the foreknowledge of future things; and thus, wishing to make men free he makes them sacrilegious.

But the religious mind chooses both, confesses both, and maintains both by the faith of piety. But how so? says Cicero; for the knowledge of future things being granted, there follows a chain of consequences which ends in this, that there can be nothing depending on our own free wills. And further, if there is anything depending on our wills, we must go backwards by the same steps of reasoning till we arrive at the conclusion that there is no foreknowledge of future things. For we go backwards through all the steps in the following order:—If there is free will, all things do not happen according to fate; if all things do not happen according to fate, there is not a certain order of causes; and if there is not a certain order of causes, neither is there a certain order of things foreknown by God,—for things cannot come to pass except they are preceded by efficient causes,—but, if there is no fixed and certain order of causes foreknown by God, all things cannot be said to happen according as He foreknew that they would happen. And further, if it is not true that all things happen just as they have been foreknown by Him, there is not, says he, in God any foreknowledge of future events.

I’ll point out here that Cicero’s argument, as presented by Augustine, is almost identical to that of open theists on a popular level, but also of many atheists. And must of its core actually parallels the standard arguments in favor of free will over a Calvinist-style determinism.

Now, against the sacrilegious and impious darings of reason, we assert both that God knows all things before they come to pass, and that we do by our free will whatsoever we know and feel to be done by us only because we will it. But that all things come to pass by fate, we do not say; nay we affirm that nothing comes to pass by fate; for we demonstrate that the name of fate, as it is wont to be used by those who speak of fate, meaning thereby the position of the stars at the time of each one’s conception or birth, is an unmeaning word, for astrology itself is a delusion. But an order of causes in which the highest efficiency is attributed to the will of God, we neither deny nor do we designate it by the name of fate, unless, perhaps, we may understand fate to mean that which is spoken, deriving it from fari, to speak; for we cannot deny that it is written in the sacred Scriptures, “God hath spoken once; these two things have I heard, that power belongeth unto God. Also unto Thee, O God, belongeth mercy: for Thou wilt render unto every man according to his works.” Now the expression, “Once hath He spoken,” is to be understood as meaning “immovably,” that is, unchangeably hath He spoken, inasmuch as He knows unchangeably all things which shall be, and all things which He will do. We might, then, use the word fate in the sense it bears when derived from fari, to speak, had it not already come to be understood in another sense, into which I am unwilling that the hearts of men should unconsciously slide. But it does not follow that, though there is for God a certain order of all causes, there must therefore be nothing depending on the free exercise of our own wills, for our wills themselves are included in that order of causes which is certain to God, and is embraced by His foreknowledge, for human wills are also causes of human actions; and He who foreknew all the causes of things would certainly among those causes not have been ignorant of our wills. For even that very concession which Cicero himself makes is enough to refute him in this argument. For what does it help him to say that nothing takes place without a cause, but that every cause is not fatal, there being a fortuitous cause, a natural cause, and a voluntary cause? It is sufficient that he confesses that whatever happens must be preceded by a cause.

So how does Augustine respond? He simply includes the freedom of the will as part of a causal chain to be foreknown by God. This doesn’t collapse all human choice into “fatal” determinism, but simply means that God can by His omniscience see through the entire course of human intentions and decisions as part of the cause-and-effect relationship which Cicero has already acknowledged exists even in a world with free will. Continuing:

For we say that those causes which are called fortuitous are not a mere name for the absence of causes, but are only latent, and we attribute them either to the will of the true God, or to that of spirits of some kind or other. And as to natural causes, we by no means separate them from the will of Him who is the author and framer of all nature. But now as to voluntary causes. They are referable either to God, or to angels, or to men, or to animals of whatever description, if indeed those instinctive movements of animals devoid of reason, by which, in accordance with their own nature, they seek or shun various things, are to be called wills. And when I speak of the wills of angels, I mean either the wills of good angels, whom we call the angels of God, or of the wicked angels, whom we call the angels of the devil, or demons. Also by the wills of men I mean the wills either of the good or of the wicked. And from this we conclude that there are no efficient causes of all things which come to pass unless voluntary causes, that is, such as belong to that nature which is the spirit of life. For the air or wind is called spirit, but, inasmuch as it is a body, it is not the spirit of life. The spirit of life, therefore, which quickens all things, and is the creator of every body, and of every created spirit, is God Himself, the uncreated spirit. In His supreme will resides the power which acts on the wills of all created spirits, helping the good, judging the evil, controlling all, granting power to some, not granting it to others. For, as He is the creator of all natures, so also is He the bestower of all powers, not of all wills; for wicked wills are not from Him, being contrary to nature, which is from Him. As to bodies, they are more subject to wills: some to our wills, by which I mean the wills of all living mortal creatures, but more to the wills of men than of beasts. But all of them are most of all subject to the will of God, to whom all wills also are subject, since they have no power except what He has bestowed upon them. The cause of things, therefore, which makes but is not made, is God; but all other causes both make and are made. Such are all created spirits, and especially the rational. Material causes, therefore, which may rather be said to be made than to make, are not to be reckoned among efficient causes, because they can only do what the wills of spirits do by them. How, then, does an order of causes which is certain to the foreknowledge of God necessitate that there should be nothing which is dependent on our wills, when our wills themselves have a very important place in the order of causes? Cicero, then, contends with those who call this order of causes fatal, or rather designate this order itself by the name of fate; to which we have an abhorrence, especially on account of the word, which men have become accustomed to understand as meaning what is not true. But, whereas he denies that the order of all causes is most certain, and perfectly clear to the prescience of God, we detest his opinion more than the Stoics do. For he either denies that God exists,—which, indeed, in an assumed personage, he has labored to do, in his book De Natura Deorum,—or if he confesses that He exists, but denies that He is prescient of future things, what is that but just “the fool saying in his heart there is no God?” For one who is not prescient of all future things is not God. Wherefore our wills also have just so much power as God willed and foreknew that they should have; and therefore whatever power they have, they have it within most certain limits; and whatever they are to do, they are most assuredly to do, for He whose foreknowledge is infallible foreknew that they would have the power to do it, and would do it. Wherefore, if I should choose to apply the name of fate to anything at all, I should rather say that fate belongs to the weaker of two parties, will to the stronger, who has the other in his power, than that the freedom of our will is excluded by that order of causes, which, by an unusual application of the word peculiar to themselves, the Stoics call Fate.

You’ll notice here that Augustine affirms God as the original Cause, Creator, and Sustainer of all things, even the human will, and even the wicked human will. Yet His creative power which gives the will existence and ability does not determine the characteristic shape or choices that will takes on. Instead, he explicitly states that “wicked wills are not from Him.”

In the following chapter, Augustine also goes on to ask whether necessity affects the freedom of the will. There he makes some interesting points about God’s freedom, but to finish up this post I want to quote one more short bit very relevant to this post.

It is not the case, therefore, that because God foreknew what would be in the power of our wills, there is for that reason nothing in the power of our wills. For he who foreknew this did not foreknow nothing. Moreover, if He who foreknew what would be in the power of our wills did not foreknow nothing, but something, assuredly, even though He did foreknow, there is something in the power of our wills. Therefore we are by no means compelled, either, retaining the prescience of God, to take away the freedom of the will, or, retaining the freedom of the will, to deny that He is prescient of future things, which is impious. But we embrace both. We faithfully and sincerely confess both. The former, that we may believe well; the latter, that we may live well. For he lives ill who does not believe well concerning God. Wherefore, be it far from us, in order to maintain our freedom, to deny the prescience of Him by whose help we are or shall be free.

St. Augustine, The City of God, chapters 9-10

Augustine on Open Theism