Is Armed Intervention Ever Justified?

Is Armed Intervention Ever Justified?
Pacificism, Non-violence and the Just War.
There are times when we are faced with acts of international violence, which force us to
contemplate our attitude to war. In my youth it was the Kennedy/Khrushchev confrontation
over Cuba. Today it is the Twin Towers of New York and its aftermath. There have been
many articles written since from many points of view in the Buddhist press. Here, I would
like to draw on that reading and make the following distinctions: between pacifism and non-
violence; between force and violence; and between two levels of consciousness, the one of
the moral self and the one of the 'supramoral' not-self.
Pacifism vs. Non-Violence
Pacifism is an ideology. It has a creed. A creed binds itself around a central statement which
is believed to be true no matter what the circumstance. It is a universal statement. It says
there is no such thing as a Just War.
The Buddha lived in a simpler philosophical age. There were no great socio-economic
ideologies and systems theories. There was a momentous shift occurring in society away
from the smaller pastoral, oligarchic tribes towards larger agricultural, monarchical
societies whose kings came to subjugate local peoples. Indeed, the Buddha's own family
were 'vassals' to Pasenadi, King of Kosala. But it seems to have been driven by better
farming techniques and the growth of trade, not by well-worked ideologies such as
Communism. Even so, the discourses concerning the All-Righteous, Dhamma Wheel
Turning Monarch (the Bodhisatta's 'alter ego'?) show that a lot of thought went into what
constituted 'Right Monarchy'.
In the Nipta Sutta, in the chapter on Eights, there are a number of discourses where the
Buddha warns against debates between 'isms'. The Buddha constantly asks his followers not
to get caught up in useless exercises, 'a thicket of views', where everyone holds on to their
opinion, their 'ism'. The purpose is simply to defeat the other as if defeat of another 'ism'
meant that one's own was vindicated! In the Culaviyuha Sutta, (880) the Buddha makes
this observation. 'If one who does not tolerate another's view is a fool, a dolt and stupid,
then all of them are fools without understanding, because all of them abide by their own
views alone.'
The Kma Sutta reinforces this message. The Kmas were confused by all the often-times
conflicting views of various teachers and each one's insistence that theirs was the Way.
But the Buddha asked them not to believe anything because it was a 'revelation, tradition,
report, product of mere reasoning, true from a particular position, superficial assessment of
the facts, conformed with preconceived notions, authoritative or because of the prestige of
the teacher.'
For to hold on to a point of view is to blinker oneself to other perspectives. In this way
an 'ism' focuses only on those parts that fit the theory, thereby blinding one to what is
actually happening. An 'ism' will rationalise everything to fit the theory. Suppose, for
instance, we make not to kill any living being an absolute law. What does Buddha Dhamma
say to the Inuit? Eat snow? And what does Buddha Dhamma say to people suffering from
diseases caused by tiny creatures - viruses, bacteria and worms? Suffer gladly?
So if by Pacifism is meant no use of force, no war, in any circumstance whatsoever, we fall

into the trap of an 'ism'. Rather than intellectual positions, perhaps we are on safer ground
if we talk more of attitudes, of dispositions. In the Punishment Section of the Dhammapada
we find not rationalisations but a call for empathy.
All tremble at the rod.
All fear death.
Comparing others with oneself,
One should neither strike nor cause to strike. (Dhp 129)
Although the Buddha offers these sentiments, nowhere in the scriptures does he directly
ask the authorities to stop all corporal punishments. As we shall see later on, even
though he tries to stop a king from attacking his people, he does not ask his people not to
defend themselves. And there is no rule in the Vinaya forbidding a monk or nun to defend
themselves from a physical attack. The Shaolin monks translated this in late Buddhist
history in a pro-active way.
Is there a way then that non-violence could mean other than an outright ban on all war?
This becomes clearer when we make a distinction between violence and force, war and
armed intervention. Force is the energy used to put right what is wrong. Violence is the
same energy laced with anger, revenge, spite and so on.
Violence vs. Force inwardly
Let us begin where the Buddha himself began his own investigations: inwardly. Let us see if
our meditation draws this distinction between force and violence and let us see what might
be meant by non-violence as an attitude towards ourselves.
Whenever something negative arises in our hearts or minds, we indulge it if it is pleasing or
we suppress it if painful. Staying, for the purpose of this essay, with those emotions around
anger, revenge and hatred, there's nothing more delectable to the self than to get one over
another or, if beaten, to avenge oneself! And if it can only be done in the virtual reality of
fantasy, well that is better than nothing! But what we discover is that our inner life becomes
more and more inflamed and it's only a matter of time before we act out these fantasies in
our daily life and engulf everyone around us in the same blaze.
If, on the other hand, we decide to suppress them, perhaps by practising loving-kindness
as a sort of palliative balm, we find the hatred and anger is only dampened. Should the hot
winds of anger fan some new irritation, a great roar ensues. Such outbursts of rage are
warning signs that we are not actually dealing with that anger or hatred.
The first sign is a clear indulgence in anger. The result is more anger and hatred since
indulgence is the technique we use to develop a conditioning. The second is a more subtle
case of the first. For whereas the first believes that the way to rid ourselves of anger and
hatred is to annihilate the object, the second believes it can be done by 'annihilating' �the
anger and hatred inwardly. The technique here is to suppress them even with something
beautiful such as metta, as if laying a bed of flowers over toxic waste gets rid of it! These
are both acts of violence, violence towards ourselves.
What we discover through the teachings of the Buddha and the practice of vipassana is that
there is a third position we can take, one that bypasses these two. We sit and bear it. By
allowing the flames to roar within us, we allow that conditioning to burn itself out. But we
have to bear the pain of it! That is what is so difficult. We have to suffer the consequences
of our own conditioning.
And we have to use force! We have to 'force' ourselves to sit and bear it! To bear it
patiently and gladly. This is Right Effort. Emotions lose their hold over us by observing and
experiencing them as mental phenomena. We can 'let them go'. By insisting we endure
them rather than fighting against them, we have followed the path of non-violence. This is
the psychological underpinning of the attitude of non-violence within society.

Again, in ordinary daily life, the Buddha asks us to 'restrain the senses' (indriya samvara).
This is force, not violence. We are not to beat ourselves, but to be firm in putting ourselves
out of the way of enticements that foster our defilements. We all have a reservoir of
unresolved anger and hatred which loves to indulge itself. Therefore, we need to be careful
even when watching scenes of violence on TV or film. This restraint, this turning away from
what is pleasurable, but unwholesome, demands strong resolution. One has to be forceful
with oneself, but it becomes violence if it is done with self-hatred or self-anger.
The distinction between being firm with oneself and treating oneself violently is crucial.
It is often a difficult distinction to make because restraining the senses can feel very
uncomfortable, and sometimes downright awful. Yet, the result after the struggle will be
freedom from that particular compulsion. Unfortunately indulging anger and hatred does
feel like a release. People like to use the word 'express', but this can be very delusory. If
over a period of time 'expressing anger and hatred as a form of catharsis' seems to have
had little effect on one's behaviour, or has made it worse, then such 'expression' needs to
be investigated. And sure enough, it will be found to be none other than acts of indulgence,
that is, acts of violence.
Violence vs. Force in Interpersonal Relations
When it comes to the rearing of children, parents must often use force to be obeyed, yet
it can so easily slip into violence. But if this distinction is not clear, then a parent may
be confused as to how far they can go to demand obedience. It demands clarity on the
parent's part as to what is allowable and then for them to stand their ground. Whether it's
the age of the terrible twos, disobedient child, or a fractious teenager, when reasoning and
cajoling have failed, it may be that no treat, no pocket money or curfew respectively is the
appropriate action. If this is done in a temper, then the penalty will be inappropriate. There
will be that added force of anger. The demand for obedience will be too rough, the fine too
great, the curfew too long.
When it comes to the unacceptable behaviour of adults, the law demands that force be
used. And that is what we expect of the police. After all, it is a Police Force! We do not
expect them to be violent. We are very sensitive to police brutality. We know when the
police are using protective force and not punitive action in public demonstrations. We are
rightly disgusted if the police use an incident to beat up an individual. When such scenes are
caught on video, it horrifies us. But when we see the police behaving rationally, using force
to restrain someone, even to the point of having to kill them, then we are grateful for that
protection. We admire their bravery.
There is a telling incident in the Vinaya Pitaka, the monastic rules. On one occasion at a
recital of the Patimokkha, the Buddha did not give the signal to begin. After a long wait,
Mogallna asked him why. The Buddha said there was someone in the gathering who was
not pure and should not be there. Mogallna called upon that person three times to leave the
assembly but there was no response. Because of his power to read minds, Mogallna knew
who it was. He went to him, took him by the arm and 'showed him the door'. Mogallna, as
an Arahat, would be unable to react with anger. As far as he was concerned some direct
action was needed for the meeting to proceed. Such is the use of force.
In the wider society, we see that individuals are by law allowed to defend themselves
against physical attack. The law allows a right to self-defence. But even then it has to be
appropriate. Should a person be attacked and then in defence kill the attacker, he may very
well find himself going to jail! Any hint of revenge and that person is guilty of murder! It all
comes down to attitude. There is a difference between assertion and aggression.
In China during the periodic persecution of Buddhists, Shaolin monks began to defend
themselves. They had developed the art of kung-fu in which, true to Buddhist principles, the

aim was not to do violence to the attackers but to turn their violence back on to themselves.
That does not preclude stopping the attacker in his tracks, but the intention was purely self-
defence.
War vs. Armed Intervention
So finally we come to war.
War is a very loaded word. It cannot really be used in any neutral sense, but always
carries with it the horrors of armed conflict. Westerners, in general, and Europeans in
particular, have had such a history of bloody conflicts that there is a sizeable number of the
population for whom any hint of war is anathema. They see only the killing of innocents and
destruction. If we use the term 'armed intervention' this helps to bring a little balance back
into the argument.
What are the reasons to justify war? This was a great debate in the late Christian Roman
Empire and Medieval Ages. These are the reasons given by St. Thomas Aquinas for a 'just
war' (jus ad bellum).
First, war could only be undertaken by a legitimate authority. That's a bit dodgy in these
post-modern days. Is the war waged by Basque separatists illegitimate because they are
a minority in the country of Spain or legitimate if they have the support of majority of
Basques in their fight for independence? In general, most would agree that a common
vote within a given community or nation state, so long as the decision is made by the due
process of open democracy, would constitute legitimate authorisation.
Secondly, it must be a just cause. Well, here is another debate. Who is to decide that? Both
sides of a war would necessarily believe their cause to be just. It is important to realise that
people will only fight if they believe they have good cause. These days the only just cause
most people will agree to is a response to aggression, hence the Gulf War and the war in
Afghanistan. This, of course, is compared with the right of self-defence.
However, whereas in individual cases it can be argued that the would-be murderer has
forfeited his right to life, in the case of a country, do all civilians forfeit their right to life if
the rules take them into war when they themselves feel strongly against it? What about
conscientious objectors?
And is it right to kill other human beings in order to defend one's borders, one's culture and
civilisation? What price human life?
But then again, is life worth living without liberty? This is something Westerners take for
granted, but a yearned-for aspiration in countries which are ruled by dictatorships such as
Myanmar, where people are ready to die for this freedom, as Westerners once were.
Thirdly, it must be the last resort. Although definitely correct, this is a problem if a nation
has such superiority of arms that it does not have to explore all the channels of diplomacy.
Just as during the period of European empires, the gunboat was an easy resort, why wait
for the last resort? Hence the actions of America and Britain in Iraq - here perhaps not
only an abuse of power but a case of arrogance arising out of a sense of superior moral
righteousness.
Fourthly, there must be a formal declaration of war. This seems to be nice protocol, but
easily dispensed with to get the upper hand as the Japanese at Pearl Harbour. And indeed Al
Qaeda in New York.
And finally, there needs to be reasonable hope of success. Foolish not to believe that!
When it comes to the right way to conduct a Just War (jus in bello), there are two main
guidelines.
Firstly, the means ought to be proportional. That is, that the war itself should not be a
greater evil than the evil it is supposed to be fighting! This is a difficult one to decide
because if the intention is to create better conditions, then it might be argued that no

matter how bad the war is, in the long run it will create the conditions for a better situation.
If World War One still contained the seeds of future conflict after the terrible slaughter, then
it could be argued that it was a bad war. If World War Two succeeded in putting an end to
European internecine aggression then it might be argued that the slaughter was the last
blood-letting necessary for a Pax Europa and the European Union and so a just war.
Secondly, it is not allowable to kill innocents. This refers to non-combatant civilians. This
is very much in line with today's thinking. We deplore 'collateral damage'. But then, how
can you fight a modern war without such unwanted casualties? The point perhaps is that
civilians are not targeted as such. This would mean a proper warning is to be given should
installations such as electricity generation plants and government propaganda offices be
targets.
Now although this refers to non-combatants, it may also be argued to refer to armed
personnel who do not support the war, for they in a sense have been 'made to fight'. They
must follow orders whether they want to or not, for if they do not they will be executed for
mutiny.
Others will argue, of course, that military personnel forfeit their right to freedom of choice
in these matters; otherwise, the army would be full of factions. Perhaps it is more the
responsibility of those joining the armed forces to consider this carefully before joining.
What country would want soldiers who say they will fight only when they personally think it
correct to do so, no matter what the common will?
So, from a Buddha Dhamma point of view, could there be a Just War? There were two
occasions in which the Buddha was directly involved in conflict. The first concerns a dispute
that arose between his own people, the Sakka and the people of the neighbouring clan, the
Koliya. It was an argument about the rights to the water of a river that divided their two
counties and it was nearing war. There is a rather ironic part of the tale in which the Buddha
asks the different strata of society what the quarrel is about and none really knows until he
gets down to the farmers. These days it might be the other way round! Anyway, he asked
the two sides to come together and simply asked them what was more precious, the water
in the river or the blood in their veins. They came to their senses and war was averted. And
it does raise the question: what cost human life? Is there anything worth dying for?
The second occasion was when King Viddhudabba, the overlord of the Kosala and the Sakka
people, learned that the woman the Sakka had given him to be his bride had come from a
low caste. It seems the Sakka were too proud to intermarry with this king's caste. The insult
was too great to bear and the king decided to destroy the Sakka. On two occasions the
Buddha stood before the king's army and argued against vengeance. What he actually said
is not recorded. I am sure the Buddha would have agreed with the Chinese proverb which
warns that whoever seeks vengeance should prepare two graves. However, when the king
set out a third time, the Buddha said the karma was too great. He did not approach them.
He did not stand before them. The army went on to destroy his people. This is a salutary
lesson for all who work in a peace process. Even the Buddha has limitations. There is only
so much one individual can do.
One of the great dangers is the way the rational mind can bend around obstacles to support
war. We know now how much the Zen roshis supported the Japanese government before
and during the Second World War. But we should not be surprised. Philosophers when called
upon will support their country. In the First World War, the German philosophers such as
Max Scheler depicted the war as a battle between the profound German culture and the
shallow Anglo-French culture. On the side of the allies, Bergman wrote about the battle
between life force and matter. Guess who 'matter' were? A more glaring case is that of
Martin Heidegger who was a member of the Nazi Party, nor did he later express any regret
for the Nazi crimes. So, returning to the Kma Sutta in which the Buddha warns us to beware
of rationalisation masquerading as wisdom, we need to be suspicious of the philosopher in
us.
But what can one do against an immoral enemy for whom the ends justify the means, who

argues that weapons of mass destruction are legitimate since they serve the ends? Think
of a Stalin, a Hitler, a Pol Pot, Milosevic, Saddam Hussein, or indeed any fundamentalist
terrorist?
However, was the dropping of atom bombs on Nagasaki and Hiroshima or the fire bombing
of Dresden justifiable? Both were ordered on the grounds of saving allied troops and
to bring the war to a speedy end, yet both had horrific consequences for the civilian
population. Surely it is also immoral when even those who act out of self-defence argue that
their correct moral reasons permit the use of any means to achieve their ends.
Morality vs. Supramorality.
So far the arguments put forth are from a position of a 'self'. Can we distinguish a different
morality for one who has gone beyond the self, what I have termed 'supramorality'. If there
is a difference of perspective, should we always be acting from the view of supramorality in
a world where such a view is hardly ever found? Indeed might it cause more suffering?
On the one hand, we have someone who has a self. So long as there is a self there will be
someone to defend. There will be possessions, a country to own. There will be borders,
cultures, a way of life to defend. And here we have the definitions of a Just War and the
Geneva Convention to guide us.
On the other hand, we have the not-self attitude of the Arahat. Nothing to defend. Nothing
to own. Hence no resistance. That seems too easy. It takes the humanity out of the
Enlightened Being. It feels too unfeeling, lacking empathy, even callous. Detachment as
cold and uncaring. But detachment means that the attitudes of love and compassion are not
dependent on the object, be it kith and kin, friends or love of one's country. In this sense it
is universal.
Supposing we were to see human beings as vortices of energy, some loving and kind,
others ferocious and destructive. From a higher level of understanding, is it not that all
that is happening is that the forces of rising and falling, birth and death, are being played
out; that the game is governed by consciousnesses that are unwholesome or wholesome,
deluded or wise? Is it possible for someone to see himself or herself as the means by which
turbulent energy is calmed; that their deaths are the means by which violence is drawn out
of the universe? What happens if a bull should charge a mount of soft sand? People who
were and are ready to follow that path - Jesus Christ, Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Nelson
Mandela, Aung San Su Kyi, the people who joined Arafat in the siege of his compound in
Ramala - such people are not armchair pacifists. If they were not killed, they definitely had
to undergo hardship. They have the courage to undergo physical suffering, even death. Yet
paradoxically, suffering arising from compassion is borne gladly and brings joy to the heart.
When we look at the level of consciousness of our politicians and indeed the general
populace, it may be too much to ask of them to behave in a sacrificial way. But we can
demand that they do not follow a route of violence. And what of ourselves who are still part
of the Great Unenlightened Masses? We need to remember the importance of intention and
that whatever action we do or support of that we must bear the fruit.
So, are there then two paths we can follow? The one, based on a self, a self to defend,
allows us self-defence and use of force but not violence. The other, based on not-self, allows
the use of force to put right what is wrong, but also offers the choice of sacrifice on the
understanding that it draws violence out of the system.
So, if someone were about to fly an aeroplane into a office block, would it be wiser to allow
this as an unfolding of kamma, or would compassion intervene even to the point of killing
the hijacker?� Or take the recent massacres in Liberia, or former killings in Rwanda and
Burundi or the present situation in Darfur. Is it better in the long run to allow the blood-
letting, or to intervene? The question, surely, is one of motivation, of intention. Is this

beginning to sound like the ancient Hinayna versus Mahna arguments?
However, for the supramorality of not-self, there is the choice of sacrifice. Just as in our
meditation, we allow inner negative states to burn out, so we allow the same of outer
negative states. It is also understood that violent creeds and attitudes always have a self-
destruct mechanism. Witness how capitalism is destroying its own feeding grounds. In this
way the violence is drawn out of the system.
Oh disciples!
Should a cruel bandit savagely carve you up
Limb from limb with a two-handed saw
And should you indulge your heart in hatred and anger
You would not be following my teaching.
M.21.20
Addenda
A Choice between Two Evils
Life rarely offers us a choice between good and evil. For the most part it is a choice between
two evils. The main reason given for the war against Iraq was the inherent danger of
weapons of mass destruction and, later, to rid the country of a brutal dictator. If we thought
armed intervention was necessary, but knew that there was another agenda to seek
revenge and to control oil output, would we be guilty of supporting an unjust war? When
there are all sorts of reasons given for war, some of which may be morally incorrect, can we
then still support armed intervention?
Do we not face the same dilemma with political parties? We support a party because of its
overall ethos or because of a particular policy. We may disagree with other policies. Does
this mean we do not vote? Would this not be an abdication of responsibility? Surely, we vote
to support the party that most coincides with our desires for society, even when we may
think that some of its policies are actually unethical. There will never be a cause where all
participants have exactly the same objectives. Nor will there ever be a cause where every
objective fits into the Buddhist ethical framework. Yet we vote and have effect. Even should
we decide not to vote, we have effect.
We can see this more clearly in international politics. It is the desire of many to find non-
violent solutions to existing conflicts. Yet there was general agreement that force was
necessary in Afghanistan even though it was understood that American soldiers might fight
with revenge in their hearts.
The conundrum of Social Kamma
It is often the case that we do good in the world, only to see it create suffering. There was
a case of a charity which sent clothes to an African town. It ruined the tailors' trade and
undermined the local economy! We should not be surprised if Iraq becomes a catalyst for

democratic change in the Middle East. The theory of chaos is at work at a moral and social
level too.
The Monastic Sangha
The Buddha did not want the monastic sangha to get involved in the running of societies as
such. Since his aim is to create an institution for the sole purpose of spiritual practice, he
forbids involvement in politics. And when those politics come close to war, there is the third
Parajika rule:
'Should any bhikkhu intentionally deprive a human being of life, or search an assassin for
him, or praise the advantages of death, or incite to die thus: 'Dear friend, what use is this
wretched miserable life to you? Death would be better for you than life', or with such an
idea in mind, such a purpose in mind, should in various ways praise the advantages of
death or incite them to die, he is also defeated and no longer in communion.'
It may be construed that any monastic who argues for the case of a Just War may by
default fall into this error. This highly constrains a monastic and can force them to take
positions closer to Pacifism than non-violence.
Is it the inability to accept that often we are caught between two evils and not a simple
choice of good or evil that can make an absolutist stance of Pacifism untenable?
A Just War without Just Warriors?
I would like to pass onto you these thoughts sent to me by a friend, Peter Herissone-Kelly, a
researcher at the University of Central Lancashire, who writes on ethics:
"Let's suppose that WWII was fought for entirely unwholesome motives. It was still a good
that the Nazi regime was toppled, wasn't it? In other words, someone ought to have waged
a war against it. The justness of the war is not affected by the motive from which it is
waged. In the western philosophical tradition, there are, broadly speaking, three major
ways in which the subject of ethics has been conceived: the Utilitarian, the Kantian, and
the Aristotelian. Utilitarians would say, in such a case, that the right action was done,
even though the agents who performed the action were not good. Kant might say that the
action was in accordance with duty, and so far was praiseworthy, though it was not done
from duty, and so had no specifically moral worth. And the Aristotelian could say that the
action was such as would have been carried out by the virtuous person, and so was right,
even though it was lacking in moral status, as it did not proceed from a virtuous disposition
possessed by an agent."
Hindu Understanding
Hinduism, through the advice of Krishna to Arjuna in the Bhagavad-Gita, sees conflict in
cosmic terms. This is his advice to Arjuna who is on the battlefield facing an army composed
of his evil relatives whom he does not want to fight.
'The wise grieve not for those who live; and they grieve not for those who die - for life and
death shall pass away.' 'No-one can bring to an end the Spirit which is everlasting. For
beyond time he dwells in these bodies, though these bodies have an end in time; but he
remains immeasurable, immortal. Therefore, great warrior carry on thy fight.'
The onslaught of Islam was enormously destructive to Buddhism in India. The Hindus had a

philosophy which allowed resistance. So the question arises:
Does Buddha dhamma have an answer to gratuitous violence?
Renunciates versus Lay
Is it possible that there are two ethical callings here? The first, the calling of the renunciate
who, following the metaphor of the Saw, sees himself as one who absorbs violence and
offers a mirror to the violent. The second is of the lay person, who has responsibilities to
those near and dear and the wider community of protecting them against such violence.
A Personal Statement:
I am caught between two ethics. I shall call them: the ethics of the renunciate and the
ethics of the engaged.
As renunciate, I understand the psychology of inner violence and I see outward
manifestations of violence as simply a continuing projection of that inner psychology. Unless
we stop somewhere along the line, there is no hope to the end of war. It may call for great
slaughter before all violent energy is drained. But then: No greater gift has a human being
than to give up his life for another.
As engaged, I am moved by compassion. Could I stand idly by while others are humiliated,
tortured and killed? Would I really allow one human being to destroy the lives of hundreds
of thousands at the press of a button? How far could I go? Maybe I would kill. The better
of two evils. Yet paradoxically, my motivation would have been to save lives out of
compassion. I make, here a distinction between force and violence. Force: that which is
needed to put a wrong right. Violence: the same with malevolence.
Is it not possible to use force to stop violence?
Bhante Bodhidhamma
June 2006