As we political laymen try to understand – and as the world’s statesmen try to resolve – the tragedies in Gaza and the ongoing war in Ukraine, we encounter an element common to all military crises: the danger of centrifugal force.
Because good-hearted citizens may ordinarily view political and military matters through emotional lenses, we may react imprudently to the crises around us. To be sure, I do not mean to criticize “good hearts.” Sheer emotion, however, is rarely a reliable guide to wise practical or political judgment, and uncontrolled emotion runs the risk, as the Catechism of the Catholic Church admonishes us, of being “perverted by the vices” (1768).
This, in short, is the “centrifugal force” to which I refer: things can spin rapidly out of control if and when passion, rather than prudence, rules the day.
We should be able to trust our leaders to provide calm and thoughtful analysis. However, as President Harry Truman once observed, “A statesman is a politician who has been dead for 10 or 15 years.” Our political leaders, as we know only too well, are hardly immune to the impulsive riptides of the day. Too often, we turn to our leaders for “fish,” and we receive, instead, “stones” (Mt 7:9).
Sound military planning and execution depend upon the virtue, vision and valor of “capable men” (Ex 18:25). Keen competence, without noble character, is tyrannical; noble character, without keen competence, is torpid. Wisdom – the blending of the two – is not the norm, I fear.
That we should not be blown away by the whirlwind (Eph 4:14) – meaning that we should not overreact – is vitally important. Passions of the moment can seize the minds and hearts of both people and politicians. A kind of synergy can result, leading to a cycle of violence masquerading as a crusade for justice.
The French statesman Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord (1754-1838) once told us that the essence of wise politics is: “Surtout, pas trop de zele” (“Above all else, not too much zeal”). Be wary, then, of excessive enthusiasm for any cause. Keep in mind that original sin affects all people in all countries.
Conflicts that have been raging, overtly or covertly, for hundreds of years are not going to be solved by some political or military “deus ex machina.” Diplomatic success is measured in inches not miles, and in decades rather than in days.
The realist observer of global politics studies national interests and not merely motives; evaluates capabilities, not only intentions; and considers factors of power, not just proclamations of political pieties.
Political judgment must, of course, be rooted in what is objectively true, but it is grounded, as well, in what is practicable. Indeed, the statesman nobly attempts to link what ought to be and what can be.
Tentative peace in Gaza, Ukraine or elsewhere will be achieved only by morally serious leaders who can in fact “reason together” (Is 1:18; 43:26). Without leaders’ ability and desire to reason – to see personalities and events in generous perspective – peace will invariably be thwarted. Unless peace is the consequence of a shared image of justice among negotiators and the governments they represent, peace will remain a chimera.
On the one hand, pressures mount for international “solutions” resulting from catastrophic military convulsions, which produce only more chaos and immense suffering. On the other hand, international “solutions” result from feckless and utopian appeals to, and for, a comity which demonstrably does not exist (Jer 14:19).
Whether at a ward or world level, politics is the prudence of statecraft guarded and guided by the charity of soulcraft. (By soulcraft, I mean those spiritually nourishing ways, words and works that conform to God’s will.)
Even the best statesmen cannot resolve our most intractable political problems, but can only hope to manage or to mitigate them, trying to relieve sorrows and to stave off disaster, while waiting and (we hope) praying, not for a Machiavellian savior-prince, but for our miraculous Savior-God (Rev 22:15, 20). Only in the fever swamps of centrifugal ideological frenzy will anyone develop heretical and fiery commitment to governmental or military policy as full and final – for politics is about “damage control,” not the source of righteousness and redemption.
In short, do not expect too much. Enemies may be deterred, but not defeated. They may be contained, but not converted. They may be restrained, but not refashioned.
As Ecclesiastes has told us for centuries, there is a time for war, and there is a time for peace (3:8), but we can be, and invariably are, gravely mistaken if we confuse the two. Thus does the Great Seal of the United States feature an eagle which holds in one claw an olive branch for peace and in the other claw the arrows of war. The eagle does not, however, feature a picture of leaders always wise enough to discern the proper “claw” for the proper moment.
In the meantime, we must do what we can to avoid exacerbating circumstances by encouraging wild or unrestrained policies, especially military mania. International law may sometimes accommodate reprisals as warranted. In the United Kingdom, though, one traffic sign advises motorists: “Do not enter the roundabout until you see your exit.” There is a political lesson there. There is a moral lesson there.
We are surely not mistaken in judging the actions of aggressors and in strongly condemning monstrous acts of terror, and then charting a reasoned course of diplomatic and, if necessary, of military action to contain or to reverse such aggression and to deter or to forestall future acts of terror (CCC 2308-2309).
Be leery, though, of anyone who suggests that irremediable international problems can be resolved only by pacific humanitarian policies or only by military strikes.
The most serious global problems may be managed or manipulated, but they will not be eliminated until the Parousia (1 Cor 16:22). Meanwhile, as Winston Churchill told us: “The day may dawn when fair play, love for one’s fellow-men, respect for justice and freedom, will enable tormented generations to march forth serene and triumphant from the hideous epoch in which we have to dwell. Meanwhile, never flinch, never weary, never despair.”
Deacon James H. Toner serves at Our Lady of Grace Parish in Greensboro. He holds an M.A. in government from William & Mary and a Ph.D. from Notre Dame University in international relations. He is Professor Emeritus of Leadership & Ethics at the U.S. Air War College, Maxwell AFB, Ala. This article originally appeared in different form in “Legatus” May, 2022.