The Cold War and Modern Identity

Although the 20th century was a period great trials and tribulations throughout the world, including the two world wars, the anti-colonialist movements throughout Asia, Africa, and elsewhere, and the many massacres and genocides, such as the Turkish massacre of Armenians and the Holocaust carried out in Nazi-occupied Europe, if a single defining event must be pinpointed, the defining feature of the 20th century must undoubtedly be said to be the Cold War. The Cold War, which lasted for nearly half of the 20th century, saw first Europe and then most of the rest of the world divided into two camps, communist and authoritarian on one side and capitalist and democratic on the other. The split between these two groups of powers, the former headed by the Soviet Union and the latter led by the United States, was viewed by both sides as an apocalyptic struggle of good versus evil, liberty versus oppression, and democracy versus tyranny. Both sides of the Cold War, the communistic and authoritarian as well as the capitalistic and democratic, have deep roots in the history of Western civilization; the Cold War, then, represented a kind of coming of age and decision point in Western culture, in which sets of principles which had been at tension with one another nearly since the inception of Western thought finally reached a point at which one idea must triumph over the other. Although, of course, the capitalist and democratic ideas won out over the communist and authoritarian, as with nearly any conflict of such a clearly Hegelian nature, the conflict produced a kind of synthesis in which the representatives of capitalism also absorbed portions of communism and the representatives of democracy also absorbed or made peace with elements of authoritarianism. In the end, the Cold War was not so much a victory for either side as an exercise in Hegelian dialectic, in which the final result was, while dominated by one side, a synthesis of both sides.

Although the birth of communism is most readily associated with the labor movements of the 19th century and especially with the thought of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, the authors of the famous, or perhaps infamous, Manifesto of the Communist Party, as even they point out in the Manifesto, the roots of communism are much deeper in history, and extend to the very origins of Western thought in both of its earliest contributors, Greek philosophy and Jewish religion.1 The similarities between Marx’s ideas and the communal utopia expounded upon by Plato in his Republic are glaring and have been noted by many commentators in the past. Desmond Lee, a scholar in classics and ancient philosophy, for instance, has drawn attention to Plato’s injunction that “both private property and the family are to be abolished” in Plato’s utopia.2 The abolition of private property is, of course, a cornerstone of Marxist philosophy. Although the attempt would later be abandoned, especially during and following World War II, during its earlier, more idealistic phase, the leadership of the Soviet Union, in hopes of creating a communist utopia, also made “a sustained effort … to undermine the family,” which included “establish[ing] collective kitchens and day care centers.”3 According to Nicholas V. Riasanovksy and Mark D. Steinberg, both professors of Russian history, “some Bolshevik leaders even spoke of ‘free love,’” a practice and principle which also bears a similarity to the counsel of Plato.4

In regards to the Jewish antecedents of communist thought, the prolific 20th century philosopher Bertrand Russell, among many others, has pointed out that the “soteriology” and “eschatology” of Marxism are essentially biblical in character; Russell even provides a handy “dictionary” to Marx’s ideas:

Yahweh=Dialectical Materialism
The Messiah=Marx
The Elect=The Proletariat
The Church=The Communist Party
The Second Coming=The Revolution
Hell=Punishment of the Capitalists
The Millennium=The Communist Commonwealth5

Marxist communism in both the form developed by Marx himself and in its later develops in the Soviet Union represents a combination of these and other similar elements in Western thought.

Similarly, democracy and capitalism in their modern liberal forms, which largely emerged from the thought of the Enlightenment, also have deep roots in Western thought. In the first book of history by the West’s first historian, The History of Herodotus, the wars between the Persians and the Greeks in the 5th century BCE are identified as struggles between “freedom” and “slavery” and consistently portrayed in such terms and ideas throughout.6 The Greek polis of Athens is, of course, generally identified as the world’s first democracy and even Sparta, with its characteristically militaristic and authoritarian society, has traditionally been granted a measure of respect as in some sense embodying the first fundaments of later Western democratic ideals, as, for instance, in its insistence on multiple rulers who must reach unanimous agreement in matters of policy so that no one individual can hold absolute power or unilateral decision-making authority.

Just as with communism, democracy and capitalism also had their antecedents in Jewish thought. Historian Thomas Cahill, for instance, has pointed out that “capitalism, communism, and democracy” are all in some sense

children of the Bible, … modeled on biblical faith and demanding of their adherents that they always hold in their hearts a belief in the future and keep before their eyes the vision of a better tomorrow, whether that tomorrow contains a larger gross domestic product or a workers’ paradise. … Democracy … grows directly out of the Israelite vision of individuals, subjects of value because they are images of God, each with a unique and personal destiny. There is no way that it could ever have been ‘self-evident that all men are created equal’ without the intervention of the Jews.7

While democracy, capitalism, and communism, as well as the measure of authoritarianism which the latter implies, all have roots in the very earliest origins of Western thought and have existed alongside each other in that thought as well as in practice since their inception, they have clearly existed in tension and in competition. With the onset of the Cold War, this tension took on new proportions and finally demanded a resolution.

The American poet Walt Whitman once poignantly wrote that it was on the United States that the “Earth’s résumé entire floats” and, addressing the United States itself, added “the antecedent nations sink or swim with thee.”8 In other words, the United States, in the view of Whitman, acts as the heir and representative of the entirety of the tradition of Western civilization. While there may be those who would debate Whitman’s point, there is undoubtedly a great measure of truth to it. The United States, more than any other nation, enshrined the democratic principles of Western thought in its founding documents and principles. No nation embodies Enlightenment thought on politics and economics, as well as in other areas, more than the United States. The principles of the equality of all men before the law, of popular participation in government and the insistence that the state possess the consent of the governed, of the freedom of the individual human conscience, and other similar principles which are essentially unique to Western thought all entered into the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, two documents which might, not inaccurately, be referred to as American scripture.

In 1917, with the Bolshevik Revolution and the transformation of the Russian Empire into the Soviet Union, an, in a sense, equal-and-opposite of the United States was established. If the United States can be considered the representative of the democratic and capitalist principles of Western thought, the Soviet Union can be seen as the embodiment of the authoritarian and communist principles. The Soviet government nearly immediately set about trying to build an ostensibly more egalitarian society, “a new realm of freedom and equality, free of conflict.”9

This age-old dream of such a utopia was alluring even to those who lived in the capitalist democracies and republics of the United States and Western Europe. This is particularly true of Marxism’s claim that “the proletarian revolution marks the end of … [the] historic process.”10 David Gress, a historian whose work has focused on Western identity, has pointed out that this view of communism as replacing and surpassing, perhaps in some sense fulfilling, capitalist democracies drew the admiration of Western intellectuals for the Soviet Union. Following World War II and the collapse of European fascism as well as the witness of worldwide atrocities, the conscience of the West was piqued. According to Gress, “what they needed was the secularized religious impulse that impelled political and intellectual leaders to continue the search for the perfect society, for the revolutionary transformation of all existing conditions, for the place and the moment of the leap into the kingdom of freedom.”11 It was this that allowed the Soviet Union to attain the “moral high ground of anticapitalism” both in the minds of its own leaders as well as in the minds of many Westerners.12

Although the two had been rather cordial allies during World War II and had defeated Nazi Germany with its fascist ideals through their combined efforts, the United States and the Soviet Union were doomed to a wide split from one another. Almost immediately after their mutual victory over Germany, the two sides of the ideological split retreated from each other and entrenched themselves into their ideological camps. As early as 5 March 1946, less than a full year after the surrender of Nazi Germany to the Allied powers, Winston Churchill, who had served as Prime Minister of the United Kingdom during the majority of World War II, referred to this ideological split, using the phrase “iron curtain,” which would later become popular parlance in describing the situation of the Cold War:

From Stettin in the Baltic to Trieste in the Adriatic, an iron curtain has descended across the Continent. Behind that line lie all the capitals of the ancient states of Central and Eastern Europe. Warsaw, Berlin, Prague, Vienna, Budapest, Belgrade, Bucharest and Sofia, all these famous cities and the populations around them lie in what I must call the Soviet sphere, and all are subject in one form or another, not only to Soviet influence but to a very high and, in many cases, increasing measure of control from Moscow.13

On the other side of that “iron curtain,” of course, were the United States and its democratic and capitalistic allies in Europe, including Churchill’s own United Kingdom. A line had been drawn in the proverbial sand. In the words of Louis J. Halle, a political scientist who worked in the U.S. State Department during the Cold War:

In ideological terms, the Cold War presented itself as a worldwide contest between liberal democracy and Communism. Each side looked forward to the eventual supremacy of its system all over the earth. The official Communist goal was the liberation of mankind from capitalist oppression. Ideologically minded Westerners interpreted this as signifying that Moscow was trying to impose its own authoritarian system on a world it meant to rule. Americans, for their part, had traditionally looked forward to the liberation of mankind from the oppression of autocracy, and to the consequent establishment of their own liberal system throughout the world. To the ideologists in Moscow this meant that “the imperialist ruling circles” in America were trying to enslave all mankind under the yoke of Wall Street.14

This ideological split and the consequent perceptions on either side of it would lead to one of the world’s most protracted and widespread conflicts, which played itself out on nearly every continent of the world in wars both “hot” and “cold.”

The Cold War would, of course, end with the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991. This collapse is popularly viewed as the final triumph of liberal democracy and capitalism over communism and authoritarianism. Some commentators, such as Francis Fukuyama, a former deputy director of the U.S. State Department’s policy planning staff, have even went as far as declaring the end of the Cold War to be “the end of history,” in an ironic use of the same Hegelian ideas Marx made use of in declaring communism to be the final result of the historical dialectic.15

The truth of the situation, however, is that, in a far more Hegelian fashion, the result of the dialectic of the two antitheses was a synthesis. The United States, even while expounding on the virtues of democracy, supported autocratic regimes throughout the world, such as that of Shah Mohammad Pahlavi in Persia, on the condition that they opposed communism. While it could be argued that such support was hypocritical, it may also, more positively, be portrayed as an acknowledgement of the value of authoritarian rule in some cultural contexts. In addition, throughout the Cold War, the United States and, to an arguably greater extent, its European allies adopted a number of reforms which reflected the social ideals of communism, including protection for workers’ rights, social welfare systems, universalized healthcare, and others. In the end, these concessions to communism are a large part of what brought down the Soviet Union; in granting that the communists had a point in regards to their criticisms of wealth and poverty in the Western world and the exploitation of the laboring class, the capitalistic democratic nations regained the moral high ground and won the war of ideas. The West became the synthesis, rendering the antithesis obsolete.

Notes 1 Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, Manifesto of the Communist Party, in Robert Maynard Hutchins, Great Books of the Western World, Vol. 50: Marx (Chicago: William Benton, 1952), 419.

2 Desmond Lee, “Translator’s Introduction” in Plato, The Republic (New York: Penguin Books, 2003), xliv.

3 Nicholas V. Riasanovksy and Mark D. Steinberg, A History of Russia, Eighth Edition (New York: Oxford Unversity Press, 2011), 595.

4 Ibid.

5 Bertrand Russell, The History of Western Philosophy (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1972), 364.

6 Herodotus, The History, Book IX, 45, in Robert Maynard Hutchins, ed., Great Books of the Western World, Vol. 6: Herodotus and Thucydides (Chicago: William Benton, 1952), 298.

7 Thomas Cahill, The Gifts of the Jews: How a Tribe of Desert Nomads Changed the Way Everyone Thinks and Feels (New York: Anchor Books, 1998), 249.

8 Walt Whitman, “Thou Mother With Thy Equal Brood,” 4, Leaves of Grass (New York: The Modern Library, 2001), 564.

9 Riasanovksy and Steinberg, History of Russia, 482.

10 Ibid., 481.

11 David Gress, From Plato to NATO: The Idea of the West and Its Opponents (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1998), 404.

12 Ibid.

13 Winston Churchill, “The Sinews of Peace,” http://www.nato.int/docu/speech/1946/s460305a_e.htm (accessed 30 December 2012).

14 Louis J. Halle, “The Cold War as History,” in Kevin Reilly, Readings in World Civilizations, Volume 2: The Development of the Modern World (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1988), 265.

15 Francis Fukuyama, “The End of History?” in Marc A. Genest, ed., Conflict and Cooperation: Evolving Theories of International Relations, Second Edition (Belmont: Wadsworth, 2004), 393.

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Reconstruction Under Lincoln

The greatest mark of the Reconstruction Era is perhaps its failure to effectively unite and rebuild the United States after the Civil War. If President Abraham Lincoln had lived to serve out his second term as president, the Reconstruction Era would have been smoother in its goal of reintegrating the South back into the Union but would have been the same as that under Andrew Johnson in its failure to fully account for, reckon with, and make amends for the evils of the past. In this failure, it would have created a similar situation to that which did occur in which oppression and disenfranchisement followed slavery and in which the real work of achieving equality and justice for all was slowed and delayed until a much later date.

As historian Eric Foner points out, “Lincoln did not … believe that Reconstruction entailed social and political changes beyond the abolition of slavery.”1 In this belief, Lincoln failed miserably to understand human nature and societies or ignored reality in favor of his own hopes and ideals. Whatever the reason for his belief, such a course of action would have been a recipe for disaster. To simply end the war and to end slavery without simultaneously working to eliminate the root and underlying causes behind why a clearly unjust institution like slavery was able to flourish in the American South in the first place, to attempt to balance the injustice by providing some form of monetary compensation and/or education as well as full citizenship rights to those who had suffered such an injustice, and to institute the proper laws and organizations for preventing future injustice is a remarkably great oversight on the part of someone remembered for their wisdom and thoughtfulness.

Lincoln had begun his first term as president expressing a desire to maintain the Union in peace at nearly any coast. His approach throughout the Civil War had indicated “a desire to achieve peace as expeditiously as possible.”2 Similarly, his approach to Reconstruction was largely one without any “fixed plan” aside from reattaching the South to the United States as quickly and easily as possible. For the most part, this did not mean fighting to procure social justice for former slaves nor, for that matter, any significant change in Southern culture, in which a deeply-entrenched and violently hateful racism inhered.

This unwillingness by Lincoln to “rock the boat” is reflected in Lincoln’s views concerning black voting rights. In modern liberal democracies and republicans like the United States full citizenship is reflected in one’s right to participate in one’s government by voting and having the right to run for political office. If one cannot participate in government, one is not a full citizen, in any meaningful sense, of a democracy. Lincoln’s rejection, then, of full political enfranchisement for freed slaves was a rejection of their full citizenship and, by implication, of their full personhood.3

Although Lincoln is often hailed as hero for having ended slavery in the United States and this heroic image and reputation leads many to believe the post-war years would have seen greater achievements and improvements, the truth seems rather to be that Reconstruction would not have taken place much differently under Lincoln than under Johnson. Lincoln’s policies before and during the Civil War reflect first and foremost a desire to restore the Union. No doubt his post-war policies would have reflected the same desire. Reconstruction under Lincoln, then, might have seen a smoother transition of the South into the Union than occurred under Johnson but would have seen a similar, if not grater, intentional ignorance of justice for former slaves.

1 Eric Foner, Reconstruction: America’s Unfinished Revolution, 1863-1877 (New York: HarperCollins, 2002), 36.

2 Ibid., 73-4.

3 Ibid., 74.

The Tao in Cross-Cultural Comparison

The idea of an objective, transcendent, and eternal force, law, or “way of things” is one that is found in nearly every culture of the world. In schools of Chinese philosophy such as Taoism and Confucianism, this idea has been called the Tao, or Way; in ancient Greek thought as well as in later Jewish and Christian philosophy and theology, this concept was labeled as Logos, or Word; and, in Indian thought including both Hinduism and Buddhism as well as other varieties of Indian religion, the idea was first referred to as Dharma and later identified as Brahman. The content of these ideas as they were developed within their respective cultural, religious, and philosophical homes reflects both the diversity of cultural expression as well as a remarkable fundamental unity in thought across civilizations, geography, and time.

According to Alan Chan, a professor of philosophy, “a key term in the philosophical vocabulary, it [the Tao] informs early Chinese philosophy as a whole” (“Laozi”). The idea, however, “is interpreted differently” throughout the thought of the various philosophical schools of ancient China.

One of the earliest and fullest treatments of the Tao in Chinese thought is found in the philosophy of Kongzi (551-479 BCE), better known in the English-speaking world as Confucius (Ivanhoe, Readings in Classical Chinese Philosophy, p. 1). For Kongzi, the Tao, as the Way of heaven, is largely a concept that reflects ancient Chinese morals and mores. He urged his students to “set your heart upon the Way, rely upon Virtue, lean upon Goodness, and explore widely in your cultivation of the arts” (Kongzi, The Analects, 7.1, in Ivanhoe, Readings in Classical Chinese Philosophy, p. 21). In the thought of Kongzi, there was a golden age which had preceded the current age of decline. In that golden age, people observed all of the customs and conventions associated with propriety and virtue in ancient China. Since then, however, people had fallen away from observing the proper rituals and, as a result, Chinese society had entered a period of decline. While viewing the Tao in spiritual terms, as the Way of Heaven, Kongzi’s concern is largely social and political, rather than religious or otherwise metaphysical.

For Laozi (a legendary figure held by popular mythology to be a contemporary of Kongzi), the only other Chinese thinker whose ideas can be said to have had an influence equivalent to or greater than that of Kongzi, the Tao was something similar but simultaneously quite different (Ivanhoe, p. 161). Laozi maintained the earlier view, reflected in Kongzi’s thought, that the Tao is the Way of Heaven, the all-pervading and governing principle of the universe. He also maintained Kongzi’s view that there had once been a golden age during which people had been at harmony with the Tao, and therefore with themselves, with each other, with the world around them, and with heaven itself. They had lost their original harmony with it through too much ambition, striving, strain, and stress; they had thereby injured themselves by separating themselves from their nature and from the Tao. This is the point at which Laozi separates from Kongzi in his analysis and prescription. Rather than viewing the problem as fundamentally social and turning to traditionalism and social conservatism for salvation, Laozi viewed the problem as, at heart, a spiritual problem, a problem in the soul of man, and one whose only solution was in man’s soul and, according to Laozi, this solution often entailed a retreat from the social world altogether. According to Jacob Needleman, a professor of philosophy, in the view of Laozi, “man is built to be an individual incarnation of this whole [the Tao]. His good, his happiness – the very meaning of his life – is to live in correspondence and relationship to the whole, to be and act precisely as the universe itself is and moves” (Feng and English, Tao Te Ching, p. xiv).

In viewing the Tao in terms of nature, spirit, and the individual, Laozi’s thought departs widely from that of Kongzi, which viewed the Tao in terms of society, ritual, and organization. The two thinkers are agreed, however, in the fundamental assertion that there is a Tao, a Way of Heaven, a law, guiding force, and governing principle in the cosmos. In this harmony, they also find agreement with thinkers from a wide variety of other cultures; fascinatingly, many of these thinkers with similar ideas were their contemporaries and near-contemporaries.

In Greece, at the nearly the same moment that Kongzi and Laozi were developing and teaching their ideas of the Tao, the philosopher Heraclitus (535-475 BCE) introduced the concept of the Logos, a word meaning both “Word” and “Reason,” into Greek thought. According to Richard Tarnas, a professor of philosophy and psychology, in Heraclitus’s thought, the Logos was “the rational principle governing the cosmos” (The Passion of the Western Mind, p. 45). Frederick Coplestone, a historian of philosophy, describes Heraclitus’s logos as “the universal law immanent in all things, binding all things into a unity and determining the constant change in the universe according to universal law” (A History of Philosophy, p. 43). This is an idea, developed nearly simultaneously with the views of Kongzi and Laozi but thousands of miles away and in a very different cultural context, that bears a remarkable resemblance to the concept of the Tao in Chinese thought, especially in the thought of Laozi. The views of Heraclitus in regards to man’s relationship with the Logos are also remarkably similar to the views of Laozi. According to Coplestone, Heraclitus urged that “man should … strive to attain to the viewpoint of reason [that is, of the Logos] and to live by reason [the Logos]” (A History of Philosophy, p. 43), a view nearly synonymous with those of Laozi.

The concept of the Logos would later be taken up by both Jewish and Christian philosophers in the Greek-speaking world. It would be identified in those religious traditions with the Word of God. Later, in the 19th and 20th centuries, Christian missionaries in China recognized the notable similarity between the Greek concept of the Logos and the Chinese concept of the Tao, and took up using the word “Tao” as a Chinese translation for the word “Logos.” For example, a 1911 translation of the Bible into Cantonese by the American Bible Society opens the Gospel of John with the proclamation:

In the beginning was the Tao,
And the Tao was with God,
And the Tao was God.
The same was in the beginning with God. (Damascene, Christ the Eternal Tao, p. 8)

The word “Tao,” of course, is here being used to translate the word “Logos” in the original Greek of the biblical text.

In addition to this similar idea from Western thought, Indian thought also provides examples of concepts very similar to the concept of the Tao in its ideas of Dharma and Brahman. According to James C. Livingstone, a professor of religion, “in the Vedas,” which texts represent some of the earliest developments in Indian religion and philosophy, “the word dharma stood for an eternally fixed moral law that underlies the universe” (Anatomy of the Sacred, p. 362). So central to ancient Hindu thought was the concern for coming into concord with this law that, “in the later law books,” such as the Law of Manu, “dharma came to refer specifically to the duties and obligations of social life” (Livingstone, Anatomy of the Sacred, p. 362).

Whereas from its inception the Logos of Heraclitus bore a similarity to the Tao as it was developed in the thought of Laozi, the Dharma in its inception bears a much closer resemblance to the Tao as enunciated in the thought of Kongzi. As in Kongzi’s philosophy, the earliest Indian thought on Dharma viewed it largely as a matter of social important, a set of laws, rituals, customs, and conventions to be followed in order for people to attain social harmony and person prosperity. In later Indian thought, however, the Dharma would come to resemble something much more similar to Laozi’s more spiritual and personal version of the Tao.

In Hinduism, for example, the Dharma would be associated closely with the idea of Brahman, the “God [who] is being, awareness, and bliss” (Smith, The World’s Religions, p. 60). Just as meditation on the self-identification of the God of Judaism and Christianity as “I AM,” or the root source, underlying principle, and governing force of existence, in Exodus 3:14 would lead later Jewish and Christian thinkers to an identification of God with the Logos of Greek thought, this very similar description of the Supreme Being in Hinduism demonstrates the similarities of Brahman, Dharma, and Tao.

Also remarkably similar is the Hindu treatment of the relationship between man and Brahman. According to Hindu thought as developed in the Upanishads, a set of mystical, theological, mythological, and philosophical texts, the most important of which were written between 1000 and 600 BCE, Brahman is also identical with the atman, the personal soul of each individual human being. This identification of the atman with Brahman sounds very much like the identification of the Logos, as universal Reason, with the reason inherent in each person, as well as with Laozi’s concept of each man as intended to be an embodiment and reflection of the Tao. There is also a further similarity with Jewish and Christian thought here in the biblical assertion that human beings were created “in the image of God” (Genesis 1:27).

Although the Buddha (563-483), a contemporary of Kongzi, Laozi, and Heraclitus, rejected the Hindu concept of Brahman, in splitting with the Hinduism developing during the period of the composition of the Upanishads, his ideas concerning Dharma also present a noteworthy comparison here. According to professor and spiritual leader Eknath Easwaran, in the thought of the Buddha, “dharma expresses the central law of life, that all things and events are part of an indivisible whole” (The Dhammapada, p. 12). Here again there is emphasis on an underlying principle which in some sense unites and governs the cosmos. And, in the Buddha’s thought, yet again emphasis is placed on the need for each individual to come into harmony with that principle and thereby attain peace for one’s self and for the world.

Across cultural boundaries and, in the ancient world, nearly insurmountable geographic expanses, at a point in time nearly simultaneous, several of the great civilizations of the world, China, Greece, the Middle East, and India, saw thinkers introduce and develop concepts that bore a remarkable similarity to each other. As Kongzi and Laozi developed their ideas of the Tao in China, Heraclitus expounded upon the Logos in Greece, Jewish thinkers developed their first ideas about a God who is Being Itself, and the authors of the Upanishads and the Buddha taught about Dharma in India. In these ideas, there is a display of cultural uniqueness and of divergence in thought, but also, and far more noteworthy, a fascinating similarity in their assertion that there is a uniting and governing underlying source which transcends and yet remains imminent within it and that man, for his own salvation both as a species and as individuals, must come into harmony with this principle.

ReferencesChan, Alan, “Laozi”, The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2012 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), URL = .

Coplestone, Frederick. (1946). A History of Philosophy, Vol. 1: Greece and Rome. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1946.

Damascene, Hiermonk. (2004). Christ the Eternal Tao. Platina: Valaam Books.

Easwaran, Eknath. (1999). The Dhammapada. Tomales: Nilgiri Press.

Feng, Gia-Fu and Jane English. Translators. (1989). Tao Te Ching. New York: Vintage Books.

Ivanhoe, Philip J. and Bryan W. Van Norden. (2005). Readings in Classical Chinese Philosophy: Second Edition. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, Inc.

Livingstone, James C. (1998). Anatomy of the Sacred: An Introduction to Religion, Third Edition. Upper Saddle River: Prentice Hall.

Smith, Huston. (1991). The World’s Religions: Our Great Wisdom Traditions. San Francisco: HarperCollins Publishers.

Tarnas, Richard. (1991). The Passion of the Western Mind: Understanding the Ideas that Have Shaped Our World View. New York: Ballantine Books.

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Was the American Civil War a Just War?

Introduction 

The American Civil War was a defining moment not only in the history of the United States but in the history of the world. As Walt Whitman, an eyewitness of the Civil War, poignantly wrote in his book of poetry Leaves of Grass, it was on the United States that the “Earth’s résumé entire floats” and “the antecedent nations sink or swim with thee.”1 In other words, the United States acted, and arguably still acts, as the heir and representative of the entirety of the tradition of Western civilization. In the insistence of the founders of the United States that the underlying, central, and governing principles of the new nation were to be that “all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights,” and that governments “deriv[e] their just powers from the consent of the governed,” the formation of the United States became a culminating moment in the history of Western thought.2 Principles that were primary in and essentially unique to Western culture, such as the equality of all men before God and the law, the belief that all human beings are entitled to certain rights by virtue of being members of the human race, and that a government must have the consent of the governed, were identified as the principles upon which the United States would stand. The Civil War, then, represents a summarizing event in Western civilization; it stands in line with the Peloponnesian War, the triumph of Christianity in Late Antiquity, the split between Eastern and Western Christendom in 1054, and the Protestant Reformation as one of the greatest schisms in Western civilization. Both sides of the Civil War, the federal government and the incipient Confederate States of America, represent this common heritage in all its contradiction and complexity. Part of this common heritage is the Just War theory developed by Greco-Roman thinkers like Aristotle and Cicero, which culminated in the thought of medieval and early modern Christian thinkers such as St. Augustine of Hippo, St. Thomas Aquinas, and Hugo Grotius. Ironically, although both belligerents represent this common heritage and were fighting for two different aspects of Western civilization, and although both saw themselves as fighting for a just cause, neither participant in the American Civil War can be said to have fought a just war as both failed to meet the criteria of Just War theory.

Jus Ad Bellum

When considering whether a war effectively met the criteria of Just War theory, the first consideration that must be made is whether the reasons for war in the first place were just. In Latin, this stage of consideration is referred to as “Jus Ad Bellum,” meaning “just to war.” Traditionally, four criteria have been identified by Just War theorists as creating a situation in which a power is “just to war,” namely, (1) just authority, (2) just cause, (3) just intention, and (4) last resort.3

1. Just Authority

The first criterion, just authority, requires that the powers initiating and engaging in hostilities possess the legitimate authority to do so. Thomas Aquinas summarizes this point in his Summa Theologica in his claim that “in order for a war to be just” there must be a “sovereign” with valid authority “by whose command the war is to be waged” because “it is not the business of a private person to declare war” nor “the business of a private person to summon together the people, which has to be done in wartime.”4 While it is apparent that the federal government of the United States meets this criterion, the government of the Confederacy does not appear to do so.5 Theoretically, it could be argued that the central government of the Confederacy derived its authority from the states which chose to enter into it and which were undoubtedly legitimate governing authorities, which in turn lends legitimacy to the government of the Confederacy as a kind of conglomerate government of these states. The Constitution of the United States of America, however, of which all of the constituent states of the Confederacy were signers, specifically grants the right “to raise and support Armies” only to the federal government.6 Furthermore, the Constitution also did not provide for the means nor even seem to envision the possibility of any state or group of states to decide to leave the Union, a fact which Abraham Lincoln himself pointed out in his First Inaugural Address, delivered on 4 March 1861:

It is safe to assert that no government proper ever had a provision in its organic law for its own termination. Continue to execute all the express provisions of our National Constitution, and the Union will endure forever, it being impossible to destroy it except by some action not provided for in the instrument itself.7

In addition, as Charles Guthrie and Michael Quinlan point out in their treatment of Just War theory in the modern world, “historically,” the criterion of just or competent authority “has usually meant the ruler or government of a sovereign state, as opposed to an internal warlord or faction.”8 In other words, traditional Just War theory does not seem to countenance a civil war, no matter for how ostensibly just a cause. The Confederacy, then, fails to meet the criterion of just authority.

2. Just Cause

A just cause for war is perhaps the most central and important of the criteria of Jus Ad Bellum. Even those who are entirely unversed in the niceties of Just War theory and international law generally demand that there be a just cause for the initiation of military action by one nation upon another. To determine if either or both sides of the Civil War possessed a just cause for war, the reasons for the conflict as viewed and enunciated by each side must be examined; although there are a variety of causes which led to the Civil War, there are two overarching reasons behind all of the causes: (1) a dispute over the role of the federal government in relation to the rights of the states to govern themselves and (2) slavery, arguably the deepest of all underlying issues and causes of the war.

From a Southern perspective, the ultimate cause of the Civil War was the infringement on the rights of the states by the federal government. As the website of the Civil War Trust, a non-profit organization dedicated to the preservation of historical sites related to the Civil War, succinctly states it, “Southerners were sure that the North meant to take away their right to govern themselves, abolish slavery, and destroy the Southern economy.”9 From this perspective, it is possible to see the Civil War as a struggle by the Confederacy against the tyranny of the United States government, which would seem to indicate a just cause. If the implications of and reasons for the cry of “states’ rights” on the part of Southerners is examined deeper, however, the uncovered roots overturn such a conclusion.

Ultimately, for Southerners, the right of the states that was being demanded was the right to determine the legality of slavery. According to Alexander Hamilton Stephens, the vice-president of the Confederacy,

our new government is founded upon exactly the opposite idea [from abolition]; its foundations are laid, its cornerstone rests, upon the great truth that the negro is not equal to the white man, that slavery — subordination to the superior race — is his natural and normal condition.10

While Union leaders, on the other hand, identified the war primarily as “a struggle to preserve the Union” early in the conflict, they quickly realized that the only way to preserve the Union was to agree with the Confederate leadership that the war was primarily about slavery and to adopt the equal and opposite position of those like Stephens, seeking instead to “reconstruct the Union into the nation it should have been without slavery.”11 In its very essence, then, at its deepest roots, the Civil War was a war about slavery.

Although slavery has been practiced throughout most of the history of the world, including those segments of the world and its history that make up Western civilization, slavery has also received an unequivocal condemnation by this tradition. As historian Thomas Cahill notes, “in the prescriptions of Jewish law we cannot but note a presumption that all people, even slaves, are human and that all human lives are sacred.”12 From these ancient Jewish roots, Christianity derived its “claim that all were equal before God and all equally precious to him,” a claim which “ran through class-conscious, minority-despising, weakness-ridiculing Greco-Roman society like a charged current” and overturned the previous ideological foundations upon which Western society had based its belief in the legitimacy of the practice of slavery.13 14 As a result of this claim, early Christian thinkers and leaders like late fourth century bishop St. Gregory of Nyssa became among the first writers in the world to adopt a truly abolitionist position towards slavery and to oppose the practice on principle.15 As Cahill has pointed out, it is only within the context of this strain of thought that a claim like that of the American Declaration of Independence that it is “self-evident that all men are created equal” can make any sense at all or, for that matter, “could ever have been” made in the first place.16 If such a claim is accepted as true, whether self-evidently or not, slavery must, by implication, be viewed as immoral per se.

If the ultimate and underlying cause of the Civil War for both sides thereof is indeed slavery, it is this issue which must determine which side, if either, had a just cause for the initiation of hostilities. According to St. Augustine of Hippo, as quoted by Thomas Aquinas in his discussion of Just War, “a just war is … one that avenges wrongs, when a nation or state has to be punished, for refusing to make amends for the wrongs inflicted by its subjects, or to restore what it has seized unjustly.”17 Given that slavery is a “wrong” in need of “punishment” and that the Confederacy had “unjustly” seceded from the Union for this cause, the federal government here again seems to meet the criteria of Jus Ad Bellum whereas the Confederacy fails to do so.

3. Just Intention

The third criterion of Jus Ad Bellum, just intention, requires that the belligerents involved in a war have the correct intentions in commencing hostilities. In the succinct phrasing of Aquinas, the criterion of just intention is the criterion that belligerent powers “intend the advancement of good, or the avoidance of evil.”18 They cannot intend to inflict hateful or undue punishments upon their opponents but only to redress the wrongs for which they are going to war. In this regard, again, the Union seems to have the advantage over the Confederacy in meeting the criteria of Just War theory.

Although, as will be discussed in the section on Jus in Bello, the Union often failed to live up to its intentions, it is clear from both his words and his actions that President Abraham Lincoln, as the leader of the Union, desired “to achieve peace as expeditiously as possible.”19 His goal from the beginning of the war and throughout its duration was to end the conflict and reintegrate the South back into the Union as quickly and easily as possible. To this end, he opposed those members of his own political party who called for more radical measures in punishing the South’s political and military leadership as well as its economic aristocracy at the end of the war. Although he insisted upon the emancipation of blacks and the abolition of slavery throughout the United States, he was, not to his credit, even willing to compromise on the enfranchisement of former slaves and other blacks as full citizens with voting rights in order to satisfy the prejudices and alleviate the fears of Southern whites, stating in his final speech before his assassination that he desired that, among blacks, only “the very intelligent” and Union veterans of the Civil War be granted the right to vote.20

In contrast to these rather amicable intentions on the part of the highest leadership in the federal government stands the rancor that dominated the intentions of the highest leadership in the Confederate government. In his Normans and Saxons, an intellectual history of the idea of race in its relation to the Civil War, Ritchie Devon Watson, Jr., demonstrates that the rhetoric of white Southerners against blacks, Northern whites, and other target groups exceeded mere polemic and entered the realm of vitriolic demonization.21 One example of the existence and nature of such hatred even among the highest ranks in the Confederacy may be found in the apparent approval of Jefferson Davis, the president of the Confederacy, for the assassination of Lincoln.22 In this point of Just War theory as in those previously considered, the Union once again meets this criterion whereas the Confederacy fails to measure up.

4. Last Resort

The final essential ingredient of Jus Ad Bellum, according to classical formulations of Just War theory, is that the resort to armed conflict be a last resort. Even if just authority, just cause, and just intention all exist, warfare must itself be the final and even unavoidable course of action in order for engagement in warfare to be deemed just. Augustine goes as far as saying that in order for a war to be just the nation which engages in its and its leader must be compelled by force of necessity to enter into warfare, claiming that “it is the wrongdoing of the opposing party which compels the wise man to wage just wars.”23 If either side in the Civil War can be said to have been compelled to enter the war by force of necessity, it must be the Union.

While there are many events which contributed to the eventual outbreak of open conflict between North and South, the 1860 election of Abraham Lincoln to the presidency is undoubtedly the match that sparked the flame. The crisis created by the Kansas-Nebraska Bill of 1854, in which antislavery and proslavery factions vied to populate the territories with their own members and, by extension, to depopulate the territories of members of the other faction, in order to ensure that the new territories entered the Union as non-slave or slave states, respectively, the 1859 attack of John Brown and his men upon the federal arsenal at Harpers Ferry, Virginia, by which he hoped to spark a war over slavery, and other similar events created a tension which hung thick in the air in 1860. The election of Lincoln, who had been elected as a senator from Illinois only two years earlier on “a strong anti-slavery ticket,” as it has been described, was the final straw as far as Southerners were concerned.24

Although he did not receive the majority of the vote, Lincoln did receive a strong plurality among the four candidates for the presidency. Whereas his Democratic opponent, Stephen Douglas, carried 29.5% of the vote, Lincoln took 39.9%, more than enough to represent a decisive victory.25 In the words of historian William E. Gienap, “the northern majority possessed the power to which it was entitled. Yet southerners refused to accept the popular verdict.”26 According to historian William C. Harris, who, in turn, relies upon the account of historian John William Draper, Jefferson Davis himself once plainly informed two Northerners who inquired of him the reasons for secession during the Civil War, “we seceded to rid ourselves of the rule of the majority.”27 In short, in the words of Harris, “Southern failure to abide by majority rule was at the center of the secession crisis.”28 29

Lincoln, on the other hand, tried to prevent Southern secession and the outbreak of war. Although he was portrayed by those who wanted to stoke Southern fears as a “black Republican” and an “abolitionist” and although he had voiced opposition to slavery in the past, Lincoln continually reassured those who would listen to him that he was no radical and did not plan to drastically overturn the state of things in the United States.30 His priorities, as he himself said, were to maintain the Union, to enforce its laws as they stood, and to seek peaceful resolutions to the conflicts and complexities that plagued it. The South, however, hardly gave him the opportunity to even begin taking action. Only “one month after Lincoln was elected president, the state of South Carolina announced its secession from the Union” and “within a few weeks, Mississippi, Florida, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, and Texas followed suit.”31 The Confederates were also the first to engage in violence against the other side, firing the opening shots of the Civil War at Fort Sumter, South Carolina, on 12 April 1861. Even in his Second Inaugural Address, delivered on 4 March 1865, as the war was drawing to a close, Lincoln expressed a belief, perhaps solidified throughout the course of a war he had first fought to prevent and then tried desperately to abbreviate and lessen the harshness of but had failed in both goals, that the United States had been inexorably drawn into the war by divine mandate:

We shall suppose that American slavery is one of those offenses which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, He now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South this terrible war as the woe due to those by whom the offense came.32

In its rush to and insistence upon secession, the Confederacy yet again failed to meet the standard set by Just War theory. The Union, on the other hand, especially in its leader’s willingness to continue to attempt to negotiate through the differences of ideology and practice that separated the two major regions of the nation and in his stated commitment to place the peace and preservation of the Union foremost in his desires, successfully satisfied the criterion of last resort. There can be little doubt that in meeting the requirement of Augustine that a just war be a war in which a national power is compelled to participate by force of necessity the Confederacy fell far short and the Union succeeded.

5. Conclusion

In final consideration of the four criteria of Jus ad Bellum, the Union is shown to have had the “right to war” in the Civil War whereas the Confederacy did not. Whereas the federal government was a legitimate and sovereign governing authority, the Confederacy failed, as a rebellious group rising against its legitimate government, to meet the criterion of just authority. The federal government also satisfied the criterion of just cause in its desire to simultaneously preserve its sovereign territories to itself and to end the gravely unjust practice of slavery within its borders, whereas the Confederacy’s quest to uphold the institution of slavery, given that it is unjust per se, is clearly an unjust cause for war. The Union’s just intention of repatriating the Southern states to itself quickly and peacefully also satisfied the criterion of just intention, whereas the vitriolic hatred exhibited by all ranks of Confederate leadership for blacks, Northern whites, and anyone else opposed to its cause runs obviously contrary to the criterion of just intention. Finally, the South’s overeager rush for war presents a stark contrast with the nearly desperate pleas of the leadership in the federal government for a peaceful resolution to the internal dissensions of the United States, demonstrating that only the federal government meets the criterion of last resort. In short, the Union adequately satisfied the criterion for Jus Ad Bellum, whereas the Confederacy did not.

Jus In Bello

The next series of points which must be considered in a discussion of whether a specific war can be considered a just war in accordance with traditional formulations of Just War theory is that set of criteria which fall under the category “Jus In Bello,” a Latin phrase meaning “just in war.”33 As the name of this set of criteria indicates, Jus In Bello involves the consideration of whether the actual conduct of a particular belligerent in a war was just. The three criteria of Jus In Bello are (1) proportionality, (2) discrimination, and (3) responsibility. Whereas the federal government adequately satisfied all of the criteria for Jus Ad Bellum, both the Confederacy and the Union failed to satisfy any of the three criteria of Jus In Bello. The actions of the Union army which entered into and crossed through Georgia under General William Tecumseh Sherman, perhaps best demonstrate the failures of both sides in the Civil War to conduct a just war. Sherman’s infamous March to Sea, which has been remembered by subsequent generations largely for its brutality, particularly serves as an outstanding case study in the failure of both powers in the Civil War to practice just conduct within warfare.

1. Proportionality

The first criterion of Jus In Bello is proportionality; proportionality requires that the methods and amount of force used during warfare be proportionate to their desired effect. In other words, given that a belligerent power has just cause and just intention, said belligerent power may only use the minimum amount of force necessary to achieve its intention and satisfy its cause. The actions of the Union army under General Sherman, in flagrant defiance of this criterion, exemplify disproportionality in wartime conduct.

Even before their March to the Sea, more properly referred to as the Savannah Campaign, the Union troops led by Sherman proved their preference for cruelty and their penchant for disproportionality. The burning of Atlanta, Georgia, is one example. On 14 November 1864, just over two months after his army had captured the city, Sherman ordered the entire destruction of the city of Atlanta. According to historian Russell S. Bonds, approximately 4000 homes and businesses were burned to the ground; of the entire city only 400 buildings, just about a tenth of the city, remained standing.34 In a description reminiscent of the common, even if probably false, depiction of the burning of Rome, during which the Emperor Nero, ostensibly the perpetrator of the crime, arrayed himself in a stage costume and sang a song, Union officer Captain Daniel Oakey reported that, while Atlanta burned, the Second Massachusetts’s “post band and that of the Thirty-third Massachusetts played martial airs and operatic selections.”35 36

Whatever the accuracy or lack thereof in this grotesque picture, there can be little doubt that the burning of Atlanta was an act of gross disproportionality in the conduct of warfare. The burning of Atlanta, however, was only the beginning. The March to the Sea that commenced with the burning of Atlanta continued for more than a month, with the federal troops under Sherman “creating a charred avenue over 40 miles wide through the unprotected State [of Georgia], destroying the railroads, seizing all provisions, pillaging, plundering and burning.”37 Sherman’s actions were drastically disproportionate to the cause and intentions of the federal government; the Union and its leaders, then, especially Sherman, failed to succeed in meeting the criterion of proportionality.

2. Discrimination

The second criterion of Jus In Bello is discrimination, which refers to the responsibility of the belligerent power to discriminate between military and civilian targets and to only strike the former while avoiding as much as possibly any damage to the latter. Sherman’s burning of Atlanta and the entirety of his Savannah Campaign once again demonstrate the failure of the federal forces engaged in the Civil War to conduct themselves justly on this point. Not only did Sherman fail to distinguish between military and civilian targets, he actively ordered and encouraged his troops to raid and attack civilian targets.

While his troops were in the Carolinas, for instance, before entering into Georgia, Sherman sent out foraging parties which became known as “Sherman’s bummers” who became a well-known and much-despised presence among the civilian population for their behavior.38 These “bummers” became known among the civilian populations of the Carolinas for their lewd and disrespectful demeanor and for “pillaging and burning” food and other necessary supplies that were often extremely scarce in the South during the war.39

When his “bummers” began to be found murdered wearing signs indicating “death to all foragers,” Sherman offered pale and unacceptable excuses for their behavior. He wrote to one of the generals under him, for instance, that “I contend if the enemy fails to defend his country we may rightfully appropriate what we want.”40 41 He added the further justification that he believed his troops had the right to “destroy cotton and tobacco,” in spite of the fact that these crops were grown by civilians on privately-owned property and often represented the livelihood of those who grew them, “because these things are assumed by the rebel Government to belong to it, and are used as a valuable source of revenue.”42 For Sherman, nearly every Southerner was in some sense an enemy, complicit in the Confederate rebellion against the federal government and liable to punishment for his or her complicity. Every target, then, was, in some sense, a civilian target.

Using a similar line of reasoning, Sherman justified his burning of Atlanta by claiming that the city had been and could again be, after the departure of his troops to continue their march, be put to military use.43 This is hardly a valid reason, however, to destroy nearly an entire city, including thousands of private homes and businesses. Years after the Civil War, Sherman would, perhaps in an attempt, whether conscious or not, to justify his actions during the war, tell a crowd of listeners, “there is many a boy here today who looks on war as all glory. But boys it is all hell.”44 45 In the end, it is abundantly clear that Sherman and the Union forces of which he was a leader refused to distinguish between combatants and noncombatants; as a result, they failed to meet the criterion of discrimination.

3. Responsibility

According to Jon Dorbolo, the third and final criterion of Jus In Bello, responsibility, itself divides into three parts.46 According to this criterion, a belligerent power is not responsible for the negative consequences of the war and therefore not itself unjust in spite of the injustice which inevitably accompanies armed conflict if (a) the particular course of action which caused the negative consequences was intended for good, (b) the particular course of action which caused the negative consequences was not intended for bad, and (c) the overall good outweighs the bad.

It could be argued that even Sherman’s March to the Sea, in spite of all its apparent brutality, does in fact fit the criterion of responsibility and therefore qualifies as Jus In Bello. It was, after all, so it could be argued, only what was necessary to end the war as quickly as possible. By demoralizing Southerners and destroying their means of subsistence in addition to their military supplies, Sherman stripped them of their will to war and so brought about the end of the war. If this is true, it can be seen that Sherman’s actions were intended for good, were not intended for bad, and, given that he accomplished his goal of bringing about the end of the war, this good outweighs all of the bad he did in order to achieve it. Even Sherman himself, after all, once said, only a few months after his brutal Atlanta and Savannah campaigns, that “the legitimate object of war is a more perfect peace.”47

Such a line of reasoning, however, does not stand up to the light of scrutiny and thorough, thoughtful consideration. In the end, this line of reasoning amounts to little more than a Machiavellian assertion that the ends justify the means. If Sherman’s March to the Sea is allowed as somehow “just” simply because it contributed to the eventual Confederate surrender and Union victory in the Civil War, nearly any conduct within warfare can be twisted to fit the definition of Jus In Bello. While it can be admitted that Sherman’s actions contributed substantially to the fall of the Confederacy and the triumph of the Union, this admission can in no way be used to justify the actions as having been just per se.

4. Conclusion

The only sound conclusion that can be reached in regards to Jus In Bello and the Civil War is that neither belligerent power met any of the criteria. Both sides in the Civil War failed to practice proportionality and discrimination. As a result, both sides bear the full burden of responsibility for the negative consequences of their actions.

Jus Post Bellum

Although not included in the classical treatments of Just War theory, the concept of Jus Post Bellum, or “justice after war,” has been become a standard aspect of formulations of Just War theory in the modern world and seems a fitting conclusion to any discussion of Just War theory.48 Brian Orend, one of the first of the modern Just War theorists to discuss the concept of Jus Post Bellum, outlined two criteria in particular for Jus Post Bellum: (1) compensation and (2) rehabilitation. Drawing upon earlier and generally accepted formulations of Just War theory, Orend posits that, in short, the victor in a war must not exact undue punishment from the losing power but should instead assist in its attempts to rebuild and rehabilitate.

While the era of Reconstruction which followed the Civil War had both its accomplishments and its failures, a fair assessment would conclude that Reconstruction largely met the criteria of Jus Post Bellum as outlined by Orend. The Union succeeded in reintegrating the South back into the United States in a relatively expeditious manner. Efforts were made to rebuild the South and what few punishments were exacted upon the former Confederacy and its leaders, such as the disenfranchisement of many Southerners from the vote and the imprisonment of leaders like Jefferson Davis, were generally, for better or worse, short-lived. The failure that lingers over Reconstruction is, ultimately, its inability to simultaneously integrate the newly freed slaves and other blacks throughout the United States as well as reintegrate the whites of the South into the fabric of American life and politics. These two goals appear to have been mutually exclusive in practice. As a result, the unequivocal recognition of full citizenship for black Americans was delayed for nearly 100 years and a long era of segregation, lynching, second-class citizenship, distrust, and hatred set in Southern life and in American life as a whole. In consideration of this, it could be said that the United States also failed to accomplish Jus Post Bellum in that it did not fully satisfy the criterion of rehabilitation, or at least took an inordinately long time to do so.

Conclusion

The American Civil War, as the outbreak of armed conflict due to a rift that had existed in the fabric of Western civilization nearly since the infancy of that civilization, embodied a certain tension in Western thought and finally determined the course that Western civilization would take on the questions of slavery, liberty, equality, and democracy. Although the Civil War, on both sides, was truly representative of the heritage of the Western tradition, neither belligerent satisfied all of the criteria for Just War theory, a central aspect of Western thought on warfare and international relations.

While the Union met the criteria of Jus Ad Bellum, qualifying as having just reason and ability to engage in warfare, the Union failed to maintain justice throughout the war and so satisfy the criteria of Jus In Bello. In addition, although it could be argued that the efforts of the federal government to reintegrate white Southerners back into the mainstream of the United States indicates that the Union satisfied the criteria for Jus Post Bellum, it should also be pointed out that in allowing the reentrance of Southern whites into American life a very large number of human beings, namely freed slaves and other blacks, were excluded from meaningful participation in American life and denied justice. In addition, injustice was allowed to continue in the South, in spite of the end of slavery, in the form of segregation and oppression targeting blacks and other ethnic and religious minorities. The other belligerent power in the war, the Confederacy, failed to satisfy any of the criteria of Just War theory. On final analysis, then, although the Civil War accomplished the good of finally ending slavery in the United States, a power representative of and at the helm of Western civilization, it must be concluded that the American Civil War was not a just war.

Notes1 Walt Whitman, “Thou Mother With Thy Equal Brood,” 4, Leaves of Grass (New York: The Modern Library, 2001), 564.

2 Declaration of Independence, http://www.ushistory.org/declaration/document/index.htm (accessed 23 December 2012).

3 Jon Dorbolo, “Just War Theory,” Oregon State University (2010) http://oregonstate.edu/instruct/phl201/modules/just_war_theory/criteria_intro.html (accessed 23 December 2012).

4 Saint Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, Part II, Section II, Q. 40. Art. 2., ed. Robert Maynard Hutchins, Great Books of the Western World, Vol. 20 (Chicago: William Benton, 1952), 578.

5 Although it could be and has been argued that the incipient American government failed to meet this criterion in the Revolutionary War, the consequences of such a determination for the Civil War are ambiguous. There is the potential for using the assumption of the inherent righteousness of the American cause in the Revolution coupled with the lack of support for any revolution at all in Just War theory as an argumentum ad absurdum against Just War theory. Free of the assumption of the justness of the American cause against the British monarchy, however, the case could also be made that the American Revolution was in fact unjust. One example of a paper which argues that the American Revolutionary War was an unjust war is John Keown, “America’s War for Independence: Just or Unjust?,” Kennedy Institute of Ethics, Georgetown University, http://kennedyinstitute.georgetown.edu/files/KeownAmericasWar.pdf (accessed 23 December 2012).

6 The United States Constitution, Article I, Section 8, item 12, http://constitutionus.com/ (accessed 23 December 2012).

7 Abraham Lincoln, “First Inaugural Address,” http://www.bartleby.com/124/pres31.html (accessed 23 December 2012).

8 Charles Guthrie and Michael Quinlan, Just War: The Just War Tradition: Ethics in Modern Warfare (New York: Walker & Company, 2007), 13.

9 “States’ Rights: The Rallying Cry of Secession,” Civil War Trust (2011) http://www.civilwar.org/education/history/civil-war-overview/statesrights.html (accessed 23 December 2012).

10 Alexander Hamilton Stephens, in David J. Eicher, The Longest Night: A Military History of the Civil War (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2002), 49.

11 Ibid., 364-5.

12 Thomas Cahill, The Gifts of the Jews: How a Tribe of Desert Nomads Changed the Way Everyone Thinks and Feels (New York: Anchor Books, 1998), 154.

13 Thomas Cahill, Mysteries of the Middle Ages: The Rise of Feminism, Science, and Art from the Cults of Catholic Europe (New York: Doubleday, 2008), 44.

14 Aristotle, for example, argues in his Politics, Book I, Chapters 3-6, as elsewhere, that there are those who are “intended by nature to be a slave” and those, on the other hand, who are naturally masters. The Confederate racial ideology as elucidated by Stephens, though never fully developed, seems to have been a revival of this way of reasoning, which further exhibits the nature of the American Civil War as a civil war in Western civilization as a whole, perhaps between the Hebraic and Greco-Roman strands thereof. (Aristotle, Politics, in, Aristotle II, ed. Robert Maynard Hutchins, Great Books of the Western World, Vol. 9 (Chicago: William Benton, 1952), 446-9.)

15 Although the sentiment is common to many early Christian writers, Gregory of Nyssa is singled out for having issued one of the clearest calls for abolition in the ancient world in his fourth homily on Ecclesiastes; see Eric Denby, “The First Abolitionist? Gregory of Nyssa on Ancient Roman Slavery,” 9 May 2011, http://www.academia.edu/1485109/The_First_Abolitionist_Gregory_of_Nyssa_on_Ancient_Roman_Slavery (accessed 23 December 2012).

16 Cahill, Gifts of the Jews, 249.

17 Augustine of Hippo, in Aquinas, Summa Theologica.

18 Aquinas, Summa Theologica.

19 Eric Foner, Reconstruction: America’s Unfinished Revolution, 1863-1877 (New York: HarperCollins Publishers, Inc., 2002), 73-4.

20 Abraham Lincoln, in Foner, Reconstruction, 74.

21 Ritchie Devon Watson, Jr., Normans and Saxons: Southern Race Mythology and the Intellectual History of the American Civil War (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2008).

22 “Jefferson Davis and the Assassination,” University of Missouri – Kansas City School of Law, http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/lincolnconspiracy/davistestimony.html (accessed 23 December 2012).

23 St. Augustine, The City of God, Book 4, Chapter 14, tr. Marcus Dods, in Robert Maynard Hutchins, Augustine (Chicago: William Benton, 1952), 196.

24 Thomas H. Flaherty, ed., The Colonial Overlords (TimeFrame AD 1850-1900) (Alexandria: Time-Life Books, 1990), 140.

25 “Election of 1860,” The American Presidency Project, http://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/showelection.php?year=1860 (accessed 23 December 2012).

26 William E. Gienap, “The Republican Party and the Slave Power,” in Robert H. Abzug and Stephen E. Maizlish, editors, New Perspectives on Slavery and Race in America: Essays in Honor of Kenneth M. Stampp (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1986), 64-65.

27 John William Draper, in William C. Harris, “Abraham Lincoln and Secession,” The Lincoln Institute Presents: Abraham Lincoln’s Classroom, http://www.abrahamlincolnsclassroom.org/library/newsletter.asp?ID=140&CRLI=197 (accessed 23 December 2012).

28 Harris, “Abraham Lincoln.”

29 This conflict between the democratic principle of majority rule, enshrined in the Constitution, and the interests of the wealthy and powerful Southern aristocracy exhibits another way in which the American Civil War represents the summarizing of a conflict that had long troubled Western civilization as a whole, namely the conflict between the oligarchic and democratic forms of government. This rift in Western thought makes perhaps its first appearance in a written document with Herodotus, The History, Book III, pars. 80-3, in which passage the respective merits and demerits of monarchy, democracy, and oligarchy are discussed and debated. The history of Athens, arguably the world’s first democracy, also exhibits this tension. (Herodotus, The History, in Herodotus and Thucydides, ed. Robert Maynard Hutchins, Great Books of the Western World, Vol. 6 (Chicago: William Benton, 1952), 107-8.)

30 Harris, “Abraham Lincoln.”

31 Flaherty, Colonial Overlords, 140.

32 Abraham Lincoln, “Second Inaugural Address,” http://www.bartleby.com/124/pres32.html (accessed 23 December 2012).

33 Dorbolo, “Just War Theory.”

34 Russell S. Bonds, War Like the Thunderbolt: The Battle and Burning of Atlanta (Yardley: Westholme Publishing, 2009), 363.

35 For a classical presentation of the common depiction of the burning of Rome, see Suetonius, “The Life of Nero,” 38, in The Lives of the Caesars, http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Roman/Texts/Suetonius/12Caesars/Nero*.html (accessed 23 December 2012).

36 Daniel Oakey, in “Sherman in Georgia!,” Home of the American Civil War (10 February 2002) http://www.civilwarhome.com/shermangeorgia.htm (accessed 23 December 2012).

37 “Sherman in Georgia!”

38 “The Carolinas Campaign: Death To All Foragers,” Wade Hampton Camp, http://www.wadehamptoncamp.org/hist-hvs.html (accessed 23 December 2012).

39 John G. Barrett, Sherman’s March Through the Carolinas (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1956), 96.

40 William T. Sherman, in “The Carolinas Campaign.”

41 Sherman’s statement sounds very similar to the claim of Aristotle in his Politics, Book I, Chapter 8, in which he asserts that “the art of war is a natural art of acquisition, an art which we ought to practise … against men who, though they be intended by nature to be governed, will not submit; for war of such a kind is naturally just.” In short, Aristotle, in a foreshadowing of Sherman, claims that it is right to take what one’s enemy cannot prevent one from taking and that the ability to acquire indicates that it is naturally just to do so. A similar sentiment is expressed in the famous Melian dialogue recorded in Thucydides’s account of The History of the Peloponnesian War, Book V, par. 89, in which the Athenians nonchalantly inform the Melians that “the strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.” This ethic of “might makes right” perhaps indicates the similarity of Sherman’s ideas of warfare to those developed before the advent of a full-fledged Just War theory following the triumph of Christianity in the Roman Empire. (Thucydides, The History of the Peloponnesian War, in Herodotus and Thucydides, ed. Robert Maynard Hutchins, Great Books of the Western World, Vol. 6 (Chicago: William Benton, 1952), 505.)

42 Ibid.

43 “Sherman’s March to the Sea,” Home of the American Civil War (16 February 2002) http://www.civilwarhome.com/marchtothesea.htm (accessed 23 December 2012).

44 Sherman, in Eicher, Longest Night, 847.

45 This statement presents an interesting contrast with the claim of the Presocratic Greek philosopher Democritus, as recorded by Plutarch, that men “ought to be instructed in the art of war … which is a source of great and glorious things for men,” in Plutarch, Against Colotes, 1126A. It demonstrates that even in the case of someone like Sherman, whose approach to warfare was far more in line with combat before the full flowing of Just War theory in the Christian era, perspectives had been altered and shaped by the introduction of new ideas on warfare. (Jonathan Barnes, Early Greek Philosophy (New York: Penguin Books, 2001), 229.)

46 Dorbolo, “Just War Theory.”

47 Sherman, in Eicher, Longest Night, 847.

48 Brian Orend, “Justice after War,” Carnegie Council for Ethics in International Affairs, http://www.carnegiecouncil.org/publications/journal/16_1/articles/277.html/_res/id=sa_File1/277_orend.pdf (accessed 23 December 2012).

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The Anaconda Plan

The Anaconda was a key element of Union success in the Civil War. The plan took advantage of the weaknesses inherent in the Confederacy’s cordon defense. Although originally greeted with a great deal of suspicion and derision by many in leadership in the Union, it was the means by which the Union eventually won the war.

General Winfield Scott, who was general-in-chief of the Union armies at the opening of the war, first recommended the Anaconda Plan to President Abraham Lincoln on 2 May 1861.1 The plan, however, was initially rejected in favor of the plan of General Irvin McDowell. While Scott was one of the few who recognized the new nature of warfare, McDowell took the more familiar and popular line of thinking, believing that capturing the Confederate capital was the key to victory and urging “on to Richmond.”2

After the failure of McDowell’s plan and the realization, in 1862, that, as Scott had known all along, this would be a war of attrition and not a battle for territory, the Anaconda Plan finally received serious consideration. It was with this new realization and the implementation of the Anaconda Plan that tides began to turn in the war. The Union recognized the exploited Confederate weaknesses with its new awareness.

The Union strategy began to pick apart and separate Confederate defenses. They were able to heave the Confederacy “reduced, bit by bit, into non-self-supporting sections.”3 Gradually, these sections, unable to stand on their own, fell apart. “By late 1864 … the Virginia and Georgia campaigns” were all that was needed to eliminate the rest of the Confederate military threat.4

Although initially mocked and rejected, Winfield Scott’s Anaconda Plan was the eventual key to Union success in the Civil War. The Union was able to use the weaknesses in the Confederate cordon defense to its own advantage. It isolated Confederate defensive portions and destroyed them one by one. Through this strategy, the Union won the Civil War.

Notes
1 David J. Eicher, The Longest Night: A Military History of the Civil War (New York: Touchstone, 2002), 70.
2 Ibid., 81.
3 Ibid., 70.

4 Ibid.









America Needs an Education Overhaul

There are few issues more important to the future of the United States than the issue of education. It is through the nation’s educational systems that its future is being built. The boys and girls who are studying and learning in American schools today will be the men and women who will lead this country and even the world tomorrow. And yet, American students have been steadily falling behind their international counterparts in standardized test scores and overall academic performance. If we are going to do the right thing for our children and save the future for the United States, this nation needs to reorient its priorities, stop throwing money at the problem, and be willing to work hard and take the necessary steps to drastically overhaul American education.

Gallup Polls conducted in the month before each of the United States’ most recent presidential elections have found that the percentage of American voters who name education as their primary concern in the election has decreased dramatically over the last decade (Saad, “Economy is Dominant Issue for Americans as Election Nears”). Before the 2000 presidential election, 17% of voters stated that education was their number one concern. Before the 2004, 2008, and 2012 presidential elections, however, a mere 5%, 3%, and 4%, respectively, statistically even numbers, said that education was their primary concern. Instead, a majority of Americans have designated issues such as defense, healthcare, and the economy as their central concerns.

While these are valid and important things to be concerned about, education is the more important issue as it forms the baseline and background for these others. To take one example, those Americans primarily concerned with defense should also be equally concerned about education as the United States requires well-educated people, especially people who can become experts in technology, science, and mathematics, fields the United States is falling behind in, if it is to maintain its global military superiority. In a recent speech, Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta made this point clear, saying “Just as DoD developed the world’s finest counterterrorism force over the past decade, we need to build and maintain the finest cyber force and operations. We’re recruiting, we’re training, we’re retaining the best and the brightest in order to stay ahead of other nations” (Panetta, “Remarks”). Without an educational system that adequately prepares young people to enter fields such as cyber operations, the United States will lose its military dominance in the next generation.

Some might wonder, in response to all of this, whether the American school systems really are all that bad. Are education systems in the United States really failing that badly to prepare students for the future and are they really falling that far behind their peers in other nations? A recent study by Public Agenda, for instance, found that most American parents “say the amount of science and math their child studies now is sufficient” (“Preparing Today’s Students for Tomorrow’s Workforce”).

The reality, however, is that the education American students are receiving is far from sufficient. “Scores from the 2009 Programme for International Student,” for instance, found tat “out of 34 countries” ranked in a recent study of standardized test scores, “the U.S. ranked 14th in reading, 17th in science and 25th in math” (Armario, “Wake-up call”). This places the United States “far behind the highest scoring countries, including South Korea, Finland and Singapore, Hong Kong and Shanghai in China and Canada” (ibid.). What this means for the next generation in terms of military and economic superiority is both obvious and alarming.

There is no simple solution to this problem. Americans have tried for years to merely throw money at the issue and have seen little in terms of lasting results. What is necessary is a complete overhaul of the American public education system. While holding teachers accountable, raising budgets, and other popularly proposed solutions are all part of the fabric of what it will take to made a real and lasting change for the better, they are not the underlying issue. The underlying issue and what ultimately needs the most reform is the current approach to education in America; the United States needs a revamped and updated perspective and curriculum that is able to provide the education the modern world demands. The old system, based on the ideas of philosophers of education such as John Dewey focused essentially on providing just enough learning to allow the average student to enter a workforce of laborers and servers. The future demands that we provide more than “just enough” learning, that we strive for an above average education for above average children, and that education be focused on molding innovators, creators, and thinkers (Hutchins, The Great Conversation). This overhaul will no doubt be an expensive and often painful effort that will require a great deal of sacrifice for all of us, but we are speaking about our future, our children, and I believe we can all agree no price is too high to pay to do the very best we can do for future generations of Americans.

Works Cited 

Armario, Christine. “’Wake-up call’: U.S. students trail global leaders.” MSNBC.com. 7 December 2010. Web. 9 December 2012.

Hutchins, Robert M. The Great Conversation: The Substance of a Liberal Education. New York: William Benton, 1952. Print.

Panetta, Leon E. “Remarks by Secretary Panetta on Cybersecurity to the Business Executives for National Security, New York City.” U.S. Department of Defense. 11 October 2012. Web. 9 December 2012.

“Preparing Today’s Students for Tomorrow’s Workforce. (cover story).” NSTA Reports! Jan. 2007: 1+. Education Research Complete. Web. 8 Dec. 2012.

Saad, Lydia. “Economy is Dominant Issue for Americans as Elction Nears.” Gallup Politics. 22 October 2012. Web. 9 December 2012.