[*PG359]A FAILURE OF PERSPECTIVE: MORAL ASSUMPTIONS AND GENOCIDE
“A PROBLEM FROM HELL”: AMERICA AND THE AGE OF GENOCIDE. By Samantha Power. New York: Basic Books 2002. Pp. 592.
Abstract: Samantha Power’s book examines the American political tactic of doing nothing in response to the major genocides of the twentieth century. Power argues that American leaders are apathetic in response to genocide because politicians and the general public are suffering from a failure of imagination. Since genocide involves human anguish at an enormous scale, Power’s contention is that human nature would rather turn away from recognizing such horrors. While Power’s argument is persuasive, this Book Review argues that the reasons for apathy in response to genocide stem from a more fundamental failure of moral and legal perspective. This Book Review analyzes the Anglo-American legal structure as an outgrowth of what Carol Gilligan refers to as an “ethic of justice.” Because Anglo-American law is primarily concerned with defining and protecting individual rights, acting out of a sense of responsibility to prevent genocide can seem fraught with legal tension.
Samantha Power’s book, “A Problem from Hell”: America and the Age of Genocide, examines the consistent non-response of American leaders to genocide throughout the twentieth century.1 Her book details the failed efforts of lobbyists and legislators to enact laws and mobilize reaction in order to prevent genocide from commencing or to stop genocide once it has begun.2 Power, through her meticulous research, clearly demonstrates that American politicians have been aware of all of the major genocides of this century as they were taking place and details the excuses those in power have used time and again to justify their inertia.3 Although former presidents have repeatedly pro[*PG360]claimed “never again” when remembering the Holocaust, Power comes to the troubling conclusion that “never again” truly means, “Never again [will] Germans kill Jews in Europe in the 1940’s.”4
Subsequent to the Holocaust, genocides in Cambodia, Iraq, Bosnia, and Rwanda demonstrate that genocide remains a tool of terror long after World War II.5 Perhaps even more troubling, under the current international legal system, nothing affirmatively prevents genocide.6 For example, when the Khmer Rouge (KR) entered Cambodia’s capital city in April of 1975 and began demanding that citizens leave Phnom Penh immediately,7 what followed was a campaign of genocide waged for fifteen years with a brief period of Vietnamese intervention.8 American President Jimmy Carter actually assisted the murderous Khmer Rouge regime by evicting the Vietnamese and reinstating Khmer Rouge control of Cambodia.9
[*PG361] Similarly, in 1980, American President Ronald Reagan branded Saddam Hussein’s chemical weapons attacks against his own people, the Kurds, an “internal affair.”10 As such, the United States did nothing to thwart Hussein’s efforts.11 When Slobodan Milosevic began “ethnic cleansing” in Bosnia, he knew that the international community was more concerned with rhetoric than action.12 Although the UN pointed fingers at the main aggressors, imposed economic sanctions, deployed peacekeepers, and helped deliver humanitarian aid, the U.S. and its allies did not intervene with armed forces to stop genocide until it was too late.13 When the Hutu power majority seized control of Rwanda in early April of 1994 and began using the government’s radio station to perpetuate the murder of 800,000 Tutsis in 100 days, the international community labeled the problem “tribal hostility” and withdrew UN troops from the State.14 Those who wish to perpetrate genocide have needed only to look at recent history to realize that nothing will be done to stop them.15
Power asserts that American nonintervention has its roots in a fundamental failure of imagination—that because genocide is by nature unfathomable, the general public, presidents, and policy makers alike have chosen to look the other way instead of wrapping their minds around, and acting upon, the horrific.16 She also concludes [*PG362]that American nonintervention in the face of genocide has actually been a successful policy of avoiding conflicts that do not clearly implicate American interests.17 Although there is a common misconception that the United States did not know about genocides as they were unfurling, Power’s painstaking research proves that American presidents have been acutely aware of what was taking place; they simply lacked the will to do anything about it.18 Because genocide does not clearly impact American profit or pleasure, those in power have deliberately obscured the truth of shocking events in order to avoid “do[ing] something” about genocide.19
Inspired but not convinced by Powers’ analysis, this Book Review argues that the roots of nonintervention lie, not in a failure of imagination, but in the failure of our legal system’s moral perspective to address adequately the responsibilities genocide raises.20 Applying Carol Gilligan’s theory of distinct patterns of gender-based moral development to the current legal structure reveals that our system is an outgrowth of a so-called masculine morality, which is primarily concerned with abstract notions of justice, individual rights, and self-interest.21 Instances of genocide provide excellent examples of the inherent weaknesses of a universal application of such morality, which Gilligan refers to as an “ethic of justice.”22 In contrast, Gilligan’s “ethic of care” provides a dramatically different perspective of the responsibilities human beings owe one another, an outlook that is a necessary first step toward thinking about preventing genocide.23
[*PG363] Part I of this Book Review will discuss Gilligan’s theory of gender and moral development and its link to Anglo-Saxon law.24 While Gilligan’s analysis focuses on gendered causes for differences in moral perspective, this Book Review is not concerned with stereotyping along gender lines, but is instead interested in analyzing the dueling views of morality that Gilligan generates.25 Toward that end, Part II will focus an ethic of care lens on the shortcomings of a rights-based legal structure in the face of genocide.26 Because the ethic of care views the well-being of others as critical to the happiness of the self, the ethic of care is directly at odds with a rights-based ethic of justice view of the world, which privileges self-interest.27 Part III will explore the ways in which operating from an ethic of care perspective would redefine the international community’s potential to prevent genocide.28 Although there are many possible solutions for preventing genocide, this Book Review’s focus is the tendency of the Anglo-Saxon legal system’s moral underpinnings to impose heavy restrictions on intervention, in ways that impose stumbling blocks to thinking about genocide prevention.29
In 1982 Carol Gilligan responded to a reigning formulation of moral development that Lawrence Kohlberg had proposed.30 According to Gilligan, Kohlberg had turned a deaf ear to differences in gender, and in so doing, had made masculine moral development the norm against which women seemed woefully immature.31 Gilligan [*PG364]found that Kohlberg’s theories worked well with men, but that they failed to address the moral struggles of women.32 Using as a starting point Kohlberg’s findings as they applied to men, Gilligan underscored the drastic differences that surfaced when she interviewed women.33 Gilligan hypothesized from her study that men mature around an ethic of justice or rights and that women mature around an ethic of care or responsibilities.34 Gilligan summarizes her conclusion best as follows:
The moral imperative that emerges repeatedly in interviews with women is an injunction to care, a responsibility to discern and alleviate the “real and recognizable trouble” of this world. For men, the moral imperative appears rather as an injunction to respect the rights of others and thus to protect from interference the rights to life and self-fulfillment. Women’s insistence on care is at first self-critical rather than self-protective, while men initially conceive obligation to others negatively in terms of noninterference.35
Hence, those governed by an ethic of justice have tacit permission to remain frozen in the face of genocide because the injunction is against intervention and interference.36
Kohlberg developed his scheme of moral development around his empirical studies of seventy five boys, which focused on an individual’s increasing awareness of individual rights and autonomy.37 According to Kohlberg, the first stage of moral development begins with [*PG365]an understanding of morality that is external to the self—rules that authority figures say children must obey.38 Kohlberg found that as the boys in his study matured, they then began to realize that there is more than one view of morality handed down from authorities, and that since different people have different viewpoints, each is free to pursue his individual interests.39 In Kohlberg’s third stage of moral development, the young men in his study believed that people should live up to family and community expectations and behave in “good” ways.40 “Good” behavior for those in the third stage means having virtuous motives coupled with interpersonal feelings, such as love, empathy, trust, and concern for others.41
Once individuals reach stage four of Kohlberg’s moral development, they become more broadly concerned with society as a whole.42 The emphasis becomes obeying laws, respecting authority, and performing one’s duties so that the social order remains intact.43 Once individuals reach stage five, they begin to question what makes a good society, focusing on which rights a society ought to uphold.44
The highest level of moral maturity, according to Kohlberg, is a universal conception of justice, formulated through a sense of hierarchical, universal ethical principals.45 For those who have developed along this scheme, autonomy is the first impulse.46 Since autonomy holds such high value under the ethic of justice, reciprocity requires heavy injunctions against interfering with another’s rights—unless personal interests are at stake.47 When solving moral dilemmas, the ethic of justice response consults a set list of priorities that privilege personal interests above the interests of others.48
Gilligan criticized Kohlberg for neglecting to interview girls for his study, and for applying his findings, based on interviews with boys, [*PG366]to girls.49 While she agreed with Kohlberg’s findings as they applied to boys and men, Gilligan hypothesized through her research that a person’s moral development could be charted along gender lines.50 She found that the ideal of moral maturity for girls is not justice, but a sense of responsibility that includes the self in its web of care.51
Like Kohlberg, Gilligan believes that people develop in stages, yet she theorized that feminine moral development follows a different course.52 According to Gilligan, girls begin their moral development by first caring for the self.53 In stage two, girls define their previous preoccupation with caring for themselves as selfish.54 In the third stage of ethic of care development, girls equate being good with caring for others and self-sacrifice.55 In the fourth stage of maturity, women see the illogic of caring for others more than for themselves and begin searching for equilibrium.56 Once in the fifth stage of Gilligan’s scheme of moral development, women begin focusing on the dynamic of interpersonal relationships and on alleviating the tension between the self and others.57 Those in the final stage of Gilligan’s model have learned to incorporate themselves into their web of care and find that applying a universal principle of nonviolence—not hurting the self or others—resolves the moral conundrums grappled with in earlier stages.58
Gilligan found that the women in her study resolved moral problems based on each problem’s contextual background and defined [*PG367]themselves according to their relationships.59 According to Gilligan, women tend to place themselves “in relation to the world,” basing their self-esteem on the quality of their relationships.60 Because maintaining relationships holds such a high value under the ethic of care, caring for the needs of others is a priority.61 Thus, when witnessing other people’s problems, women, according to Gilligan, tend to feel the problem as their own because they see themselves as interdependent on the relationships of others.62 Women also tend to judge themselves based on their ability to help others; thus acting to alleviate another’s suffering is imperative under an ethic of care.63
While under an ethic of justice there exists an injunction against trespassing over another’s rights, under an ethic of care model, the injunction is against not acting, or refusing to accept responsibility for fellow humanity.64 From an ethic of care perspective, maintaining and mending relationships holds tremendous value.65 Therefore, the more broadly a person defines the scope of her relationships, the greater the payoff in terms of an increased sense of connectivity to others.66 Unlike the ethic of justice, the ethic of care does not automatically privilege personal rights over another’s because, in certain contexts, the other’s needs may be more important than individual rights.67
Anglo-American society has utilized the rights-based ethic of justice as the foundation for its development of law.68 With autonomy as [*PG368]one of the most highly prized values of the ethic of justice, sovereignty has become almost synonymous with Statehood.69 Intervening in another State’s affairs to prevent genocide is not a tenable option, from an ethic of justice perspective, because doing so requires reaching across lines of self-interest into territory beyond the nexus of bystander State rights.70 Since the ethic of justice focuses on respecting other people’s autonomy and protecting others from interference, such behavior is directly at odds with an ethic of care’s imperative to include others and care for those who need help.71 By drawing lines around the self and others, the law legitimizes the alienation and autonomy that the ethic of justice takes for granted.72
The Anglo-American system of rights-based law essentially draws lines around autonomous citizens and concerns itself with instances in which one individual’s rights infringes upon the rights of another.73 Such a system is relatively easy to adjudicate because the person whose rights have been violated presumably is motivated to bring action against his or her wrongdoer.74 States become analogous to autonomous individuals under an ethic of justice where there are clearly drawn lines of territoriality that explicitly govern the points at which each State’s rights begin and end.75 While these lines have become [*PG369]more complicated with the advent of global economics, the concept of territorially-defined State rights remains firmly intact.76 Protecting State sovereignty and a State’s autonomous rights is a deeply held ethic of justice value reflected in countless international treaties.77 Such reflexive deference to State sovereignty makes thoughts of intervention to prevent genocide seem fraught with legal problems.
The ethic of care provides an excellent framework for analyzing the failure of an ethic of justice to prevent genocide.78 While a rights-based system of law arguably works well domestically, its moral impotence becomes apparent in the face of a genocidal regime.79 Under an ethic of justice model, bystander countries have no real legal obligation to prevent genocide, nor do they face any legal consequences for standing idly by while genocide occurs.80 Similarly, governments that perpetrate genocide face no real legal consequences until they have been overthrown.81
Once a regime turns genocidal, targeted citizens have nowhere to turn in order to have their rights-infringement fairly adjudicated.82 Victims of genocide cannot turn to their government for assistance when their government is the perpetrator.83 Absent the protection of their sovereign State, these citizens-turned-enemies are stripped of the only readily available means of enforcing their rights.84 For bystander States operating from an ethic of justice, there is no imperative to intervene into the internal matters of their genocidal neighbors.85 In fact, because intervention would utilize the bystander States’ political, financial, and human resources, States are often unwilling to intervene even when they believe that they have a legal obligation to do so.86 Under the ethic of justice, sacrificing personal rights for the needs of another, no matter how grave, is not a moral imperative unless personal interests are at stake.87
When Raphael Lemkin drafted the Genocide Convention,88 he was attempting through multinational treaty to eradicate deference to sovereignty in the face of genocide.89 The Convention declared genocide a crime punishable under international law.90 Since the Conven[*PG371]tion’s unanimous adoption in 1948, its impact has been questionable.91 The world has since witnessed genocides in Cambodia, Iraq, the former Yugoslavia, and Rwanda.92 In none of those instances did the international community undertake to prevent escalation of the killing.93 One explanation for the Convention’s failure is that: “genocide is invariably a crime of State, actively perpetrated or condoned by government officials. Thus, barring revolution or coup d’etat, it is highly unlikely that a State will tolerate a prosecution for the very crimes it has affirmatively directed or allowed.”94 Furthermore, there is no provision in the Convention that provides for punishment of bystander States for failing to curb genocidal massacres.95 The Genocide Convention therefore has no teeth.96
Those in power who could have chosen to act in the spirit of the Genocide Convention relied instead upon the ethic of justice to inform their approach to the problem. Caspar Weinberger and Colin Powell, for example, drafted a strict list of requirements that must be [*PG372]fulfilled before giving authorization for the United States to intervene militarily.97 Their list demanded that armed intervention:
(1) be used only to protect the vital interests of the United States or its allies;
(2) be carried out wholeheartedly, with the clear intention of winning;
(3) be in pursuit of clearly defined political and military objectives;
(4) be accompanied by widespread public and congressional support; and (5) be waged only as a last resort.98
Moreover, Colin Powell restricted this list further by adding the requirement that the use of force be “decisive” and be carried out with a “clear exit strategy.”99 Such a hierarchical ordering of values that privileges a State’s “personal” objectives reflects the values of an ethic of justice, in which personal rights trump the needs of another.100 The conservative nature of this list, bent on making military intervention a “last resort,” clearly restricts affirmative action in response to genocide or other humanitarian crises.101 In a situation in which a foreign State is perpetrating genocide on its inhabitants, the list drafted by Weinberger and Powell would approve of intervention only in the most limited of circumstances in which the genocide impacts American profit or pleasure.102 Such an outcome would be unconscionable under an ethic of care.103
From an ethic of care perspective, there are numerous options available to prevent genocide.104 Operating from an ethic of care framework, the first question those in power must ask themselves is, “What have I done, directly or indirectly, to assist those who wish to perpetrate genocide?”105 By first finding fault with the self, the questioner then takes on a high level of personal responsibility for genocidal regimes as they unfold.106 Taking personal responsibility means weaving the victims of genocide into a broadening web of care, in which a person with the capacity to help sees the safeguarding of genocide victims as vital to her own sense of well-being.107
In this way, Power herself is operating from an ethic of care perspective as she frames the argument of her book.108 By forcing readers to see how the United States has directly or indirectly assisted genocidal regimes, she asks her readers to see those instances as opportunities embarrassingly wasted.109 “We have all been bystanders to genocide,” she points out in her preface.110 If we were all operating from an ethic of care, that recognition of shirked responsibility would be enough to mobilize a more activist response to genocide.111
From the perspective of an ethic of care, almost no personal right provides a sufficient excuse for failing to intervene to stop genocide.112 The ethic of care views the intentional harming of others as the worst possible crime.113 The second worst moral infraction is giving tacit approval for such crimes by doing nothing and excluding [*PG374]those in need from the web of care.114 The ethic of care teaches society that it must act when it can, and that the moral conundrum is not whether to act, but how to act.115
There is only one example of the United States intervening to prevent genocide: Kosovo.116 Senior officials in the Clinton administration with fresh memories of Bosnia and Rwanda, both genocides that occurred during Clinton’s presidency, reacted swiftly when they learned about atrocities in Racak.117 There, in 1999, Serb forces spent three days pummeling the small town of Racak with artillery fire.118 After the onslaught, Serb forces rounded up and executed the forty five remaining citizens of Racak, leaving their bodies face down in a ravine.119 Within twenty-four hours, American Ambassador William Walker inspected the crime scene.120 Walker saw decapitated corpses and that the majority of the Serb’s victims were either elderly or children.121
Already intent on stopping Milosevic, and bruised by memories of Bosnia and Rwanda, the United States and its European allies presented a “take-it-or-leave-it proposal” in France.122 The proposal from the allies required that Belgrade remove the majority of its troops from Kosovo, grant autonomy to the Albanians, and allow for the deployment of 25,000 armed peacekeepers to Serbia.123 Refusal on the part of the Serbs would mean bombing from NATO.124 The Serbs refused, and the bombing that ensued in March of 1999 continued until Milosevic accepted the compromise drafted in France.125
The international community’s swift response is informative for a number of reasons. First, the initiative sprung from American leadership.126 Second, and perhaps most importantly, it was the first time an administration had learned from its previous mistakes of apathy in the face of genocide and instead adopted an ethic of responsibility/care [*PG375]to govern its response.127 The Clinton administration had to grapple with their shame at having done nothing as genocide in Rwanda raged unchecked.128 Hopefully, future administrations will not need to witness two genocides first-hand before feeling compelled to act in order to prevent a third.129
In her book, “A Problem from Hell”: America and the Age of Genocide, Samantha Power argues that America has failed to respond to the major genocides of this century because of our collective inability to fathom something so evil.130 Power’s contention that America’s failure to prevent genocide is a failure of imagination is not without merit. Human nature perpetually turns away from events so horrible as to defy comprehension.131 However, for those who wield power in this country and who are in a position to “do something” to stop genocide, such an explanation makes little sense; the ability to do something substantive to thwart genocide obviates the need to flee from its reality.132 American leaders have understood what was taking place; they simply lacked the will to do anything about it.133 Relying on the apathy and misinformation of citizens, Washington is able to preoccupy itself with its own perpetuation and little more.134 Politicians also rely on the fact that they typically do not face repercussions for failing to act.135 Their worry instead is how public opinion will view the moments in which they have chosen a path of action.136 From an ethic of justice standpoint, it is not surprising that politicians find safe haven [*PG376]through inaction. According to this view, they have made no moral choice, so there can be nothing to judge. From an ethic of care perspective, however, the decision not to act is still a decision, and one fraught with moral failure.137 As John Paul Sartre once noted, even a non-choice is a choice.138 It is more often the case that non-choices cause the greatest harm.139
What will it take for politicians and citizens to shift perspectives from an ethic of justice to an ethic of care?140 Perhaps part of the answer is to bring the suffering of others closer to the American experience.141 In this respect, perhaps Powers was on to something significant.142 One way to combat the self-interest of those in power is to address the electorate’s failure to comprehend the suffering of others, thereby influencing those in power to take a more activist approach in response to genocide.143 In one attempt to combat this failure of imagination, Power employs an ethic of care tactic—personalizing the victim’s stories—so that we might be able to wrap our minds around their humanity and suffering.144 At the beginning of her chapter on Cambodia, for example, Power includes a haunting photograph of a woman holding her baby moments before they were murdered.145 The woman stares straight at the camera with a mixture of incredulity, rage and despair, practically screaming at her observers to recognize her humanity.146 If the majority of American citizens were operating from an ethic of care and felt that they had a significant voice, such images of outrage and hopelessness would inspire greater demands of American leadership.147 For the time being, perhaps the best means of inspiring responses to outbreaks of genocide is through haunting stories and images, like those of a river in Rwanda running [*PG377]with blood, piles of corpses piled on roadsides, and mothers screaming at cameras for some human recognition.148 If such stimuli do not result in immediate activism, at the very least, exposure to the tragedies of others will leave its audience discomforted by their inertia.149 Perhaps this discomfort might eventually ripen into a perspective similar to the ethic of care and result in broadening demands of American politicians.150