Double trouble
This morning I heard that the Syrian regime had crossed a "red line" by using chemical weapons on its citizens. There was no explanation given for why chemical weapons should be considered unacceptable when apparently it was perfectly OK to slaughter tens of thousands of citizens with conventional weapons. Why the outrage over doing it chemically? After all, Syria is one of the very few countries that hasn't officially promised not to use chemical weapons, so it's not like they're going back on their word.
It turns out that at least two other people have found the distinction puzzling. Writing in The American Prospect last December, Paul Waldman asked: "So what is it that makes chemical weapons more morally abhorrent than guns or bombs?" He found at least a partial answer in an article by Dominic Tierney:
Strip away the moralistic opposition to chemical weapons and you often find strategic self-interest lying underneath. Powerful countries like the United States cultivate a taboo against using WMD partly because they have a vast advantage in conventional arms. We want to draw stark lines around acceptable and unacceptable kinds of warfare because the terrain that we carve out is strategically favorable. Washington can defeat most enemy states in a few days--unless the adversary uses WMD to level the playing field.
This issue reminds me of a similar question that's rarely asked: Why is it OK for powerful countries to have nuclear weapons, but not for Iran, North Korea, etc., to have them? Why do our leaders and news purveyors expect that we'll just understand such distinctions? In the absence of any explanation to the contrary, it's reasonable to assume that underneath the moral posturing is a bully's fear that if he doesn't get to dictate which weapons are used-and who gets to use them-he will lose his strategic advantage.
Of course there's nothing new or remarkable about double standards (or bullying, for that matter). Most of the people I encounter every day have one set of guiding principles and ideals for the larger world and a completely different set when it comes to their private lives. For example, some passionate defenders of civil liberties and transparent governance draw a line (perhaps a red one) at the door of their autocratically governed, cooperatively owned home.
It turns out that at least two other people have found the distinction puzzling. Writing in The American Prospect last December, Paul Waldman asked: "So what is it that makes chemical weapons more morally abhorrent than guns or bombs?" He found at least a partial answer in an article by Dominic Tierney:
Strip away the moralistic opposition to chemical weapons and you often find strategic self-interest lying underneath. Powerful countries like the United States cultivate a taboo against using WMD partly because they have a vast advantage in conventional arms. We want to draw stark lines around acceptable and unacceptable kinds of warfare because the terrain that we carve out is strategically favorable. Washington can defeat most enemy states in a few days--unless the adversary uses WMD to level the playing field.
This issue reminds me of a similar question that's rarely asked: Why is it OK for powerful countries to have nuclear weapons, but not for Iran, North Korea, etc., to have them? Why do our leaders and news purveyors expect that we'll just understand such distinctions? In the absence of any explanation to the contrary, it's reasonable to assume that underneath the moral posturing is a bully's fear that if he doesn't get to dictate which weapons are used-and who gets to use them-he will lose his strategic advantage.
Of course there's nothing new or remarkable about double standards (or bullying, for that matter). Most of the people I encounter every day have one set of guiding principles and ideals for the larger world and a completely different set when it comes to their private lives. For example, some passionate defenders of civil liberties and transparent governance draw a line (perhaps a red one) at the door of their autocratically governed, cooperatively owned home.