CCTS
Review 33

by Diana Francis

This is short article on a vast subject. I shall begin with some general, contextual observations on recent British foreign policy, moving on to a piece-by-piece discussion of the different elements of the ‘ethical foreign policy’ concept and concluding with a few suggestions for change, based on my own ethical and political approach.

Recent British foreign policy

‘The national interest’ is (and always has been) the taken-for-granted base line for foreign policy within all the major parties. On more than one occasion recently, Gordon Brown has promised that he (presumably if he becomes PM) will not slavishly follow US policy in foreign affairs, but will act in ‘the national interest’. Ethics were not mentioned. In his recent visit to India (as in his earlier visit to Africa), he showed by his manner that he is driven by moral passion. Yet the national interest was still to the fore in his comments and he distanced himself from Gandhi’s commitment to nonviolence, while expressing admiration for his strength and decisive leadership. He insisted that ‘hard power’ (violence) was necessary, as well as ‘soft power’.

Robin Cook, often seen as the initiating champion of ethical foreign policy, in fact promised only ‘an ethical dimension’ to it. Does that mean that he would have ruled out all unethical policies that national interest might entail, or was national interest still to trump ethics? For much of his time as Foreign Secretary it was hard to avoid the conclusion that ethical considerations would be applied only if they were cost free. He permitted all kinds of lucrative arms deals to go ahead – for instance the sale of BAe’s Hunter Hawk jets to Indonesia – that breached any possible notion of ethical exports (even assuming, as I do not, that arms exports can be ethical). He did, eventually, resign over Iraq, but he never pointed to the ethical contradiction inherent in being prepared to attack another country on the pretext that it had acquired ‘weapons of mass destruction’ while his own country had them in abundance and was not honouring its NPT treaty obligations to get rid of them.

The Blair government in which he served, which tacitly supported his idea of taking an ethical approach to foreign policy, acted very much like past British governments, in that it majored on militarism as the favoured means of action and used the rhetoric of justification – which is, after all, a nod in the direction of ethics. The air attacks on Serbia and Kosovo and the subsequent international occupation of the latter were presented as an ethical intervention and are still seen by many (though not by me¹) as having been morally justified. This ‘justification’ was used as a reference point for the later justification of the bombardment, invasion and occupation of Afghanistan and Iraq.

In recent speeches, Tony Blair has argued that it is vital for Britain to have war fighting as part of its way of being in the world. ‘Peacekeeping’, he says, is not enough. War fighting is an important element in our diplomacy. But the tone of moral rectitude is ever present.

I would argue that such claims to ethical justification are specious and that such an approach to the national interest is counter-productive, creating more enemies by the day. I would also like to suggest that the word ‘foreign’ discourages an ethical approach and is inimical to it.

A discussion of terms

Let us reflect a little on what could be meant by ‘ethical’, and then on the meaning and implications its relationship to its companions, ‘foreign’ and ‘policy’.

Ethical
How demanding a definition of ‘ethical’ might we have in mind? The word itself means only ‘Of or pertaining to morality or the science of ethics’ (OED). Should this mean doing all possible good, or rather avoiding gross wrong – or something in between? I would argue that it is necessary to go beyond prohibiting the active perpetration of wrong against others. Referring to Galtung’s definition of violence as ‘avoidable insults to basic human needs’, I would suggest that our view of what is unethical should include ‘wanton neglect of’ the same. Yet what is avoidable or wanton will always be at issue. With the best will in the world, there will be limits to what can be done by any one nation at any one time and some disasters are not amenable to preventive or immediate effective intervention. Nonetheless, a policy of being proactive in helping to meet the needs of others would seem to be indicated by ‘ethical’ here.

The old debate about means and ends must be brought in here, too. Does the goal alone have to be ethical, or also the actions taken to achieve those goals? I would argue that goals and means should be judged by the same set of ethical principles. The actions taken for a particular purpose are in themselves ethical or unethical. For instance, using tactical nuclear weapons to ‘take out’ facilities that are seen as threatening the development of a nuclear weapons capacity would be unethical. And I would argue that just as the use of killing by a tyrant within a country to perpetuate his power is a violation of human rights and a denial of democracy, so concerted killing in wars against tyrants is a violation of human rights and an act of tyranny.

The moral dilemma comes when it appears that minor infringements of otherwise important ethical principles (such as those of not killing or torturing) might produce some major benefit. ‘Proportionality’ is, for instance, a ‘just war’ condition. And recent debates about torture have suggested that a little of it at judicious moments might do a lot of good. Many of us might agree that lying to a member of the Gestapo about harbouring fugitive Jews in your house would be ethical, although lying for narrow personal advantage would not. But are there some moral imperatives that are non-negotiable? I believe that the prohibition of gross infringements of human rights must be so, and that the principle purpose of ethical systems is to provide grounding constructive social living (not merely the good of souls): in itself a practical and necessary goal. It is clear that even sincere commitment to ethical behaviour will not make for ready agreement in every case, but this should not be a pretext for giving up on ethics.

Then there is the overlapping dilemma of ‘competing goods’ (Isaiah Berlin’s term): for instance, those of security and freedom (much debated at present); or personal freedom and the common good; or the immediate needs of the poor and the long-term needs of the environment. Finding ways of doing things that transcend the dilemma may at times be possible. At other times some judicious and principled balancing will have to be done. But the ethical principles will remain as ‘goods’ to be pursued and not denied or contradicted.

These questions, just a few of the many that could be raised here, point to an enormous area for explanation if ‘ethical foreign policy’ is to be grounded in any common understanding.

Foreign
My OED says that ‘foreign’ means ‘dealing with matters concerning other countries’ (OED meaning 10). This sounds straight forward enough. But the ‘otherness’ resonances of ‘foreign’ are far reaching in their implications. ‘Foreigners’ are not of us – they are different and separate. They do not belong to the same collective and are not included in ‘the national interest’, that is, ‘our’ self-interest. Moreover, they are often not given the same moral status as ‘our own’. So the number of Iraqis who have died since the 2003 invasion is deemed unworthy of estimation, while the number of ‘our’ dead is constantly catalogued.
My idea of ethics includes altruism – putting other people’s needs before our own – and the idea of ‘the common good’. Our interest is included in the common interest but cannot override it. Can the common interest be confined to one’s own group? I would have thought that ‘the common good’ should not be so restricted. I admit that I find it ‘natural’ to care more about my family and friends than about anyone else. But my reason, imagination, compassion, belief system and will power enable me to go beyond that. And this, I believe, is the general human experience. It seems to me that the notion of ‘the national interest’ has no particular logic in ethics and lacks the emotional pull of direct, personal connectedness, which could be seen as having some useful social and therefore moral base. ‘The nation’ is a construct and a unit of organisation and (ideally) of political participation, but it is, I would argue, largely an ‘imagined community’ , rather than a real, day to day one, based on living relationships and joint activities. As such, it could be replaced by a wider community of the imagination: that of human kind.

I do not want to be too pious here. I realise that self-interest plays a potent role in human motivation and relationships, mine included, and that awareness of it provides the reference point for understanding the needs and interests of others. But I do wonder how far it is for our common good, once we have left the world in which ‘us’ describes immediate, intimate connectedness, to be guided by such an arbitrary and divisive unit as ‘nation’ in our construction of collective interest. As the globe shrinks and the problems that threaten it expand to engulf it, national self-interest may be not only a notional but also a practical contradiction in terms. Current shifts in international economics threaten the old order. Military power, while militarism continues, is going to shift, too. Migration is a function of violence and inequality. Climate change threatens us all. Selfish behaviour in these circumstances not only demeans us but will not, beyond the very short term, produce for us the security and prosperity to which we are so passionately attached.

Moreover, the state is now transcended (and subverted) by many other organisations and systems, commercial and political. Many of these are designed to serve the interests of private ownership, and operate unethically. Others (like the UN) were founded to serve common interests but are hijacked by powerful factions or perform inadequately. Most, if not all, need to be curbed or transformed, in line with ethical policies.

It is necessary to have units for organisation and participation (direct and indirect). But the notion of ‘nation’, when based on ethnic identity, is problematic and the notion of ‘state’, as an alternative, is strongly associated with militarism. I would like to see the dominance of the ‘nation state’ in political organisation diminish and other concepts and units, both more local and more inclusive, take on greater importance. And I think that an ethical view would demand that the ‘national interest’, however described, is seen always in relation to the greater whole and considered in the light of the needs of others.

Policy
The policy of a government is (in theory at least) collectively (if largely indirectly) formulated, by people elected to represent the rest of us. (The weaknesses of UK electoral systems will not be discussed here.) Since the policies that are made by governments, and the way they are (or are not) implemented, have such an impact on people’s lives, their nature is necessarily of great importance. Those of us who work in the field of conflict transformation have first hand knowledge of this. What we (and above all our partners) do is ethically understood and driven, and it is often obstructed, undermined or swept aside by what we would see as unethical action by our own and other governments.

The ultimate ethical arbiter must be the conscience of an individual human being, who may, quite properly I believe, choose to defy the state’s legal requirements in a matter of conscience and commit acts of civil disobedience or resistance. Without individual ethical commitment, the corporate conscience will be weak. Nonetheless, we cannot separate the individual conscience from public affairs and political policies, for which we are all responsible. There must be some kind of collective influence exerted by a population on the policies produced by its politicians, if those policies are to be legitimate. And ethical centres of gravity do shift. Many things that were regarded as right and proper in the past (colonialism, slavery, torture and so on) are now seen as morally beyond the pale. Unfortunately, when they reappear in new guises they are not recognised and denounced for what they are. The special pleading of self-interest or appeals to the wider good are all too often used to mask them. Moral effort and challenge is an ongoing responsibility for us all.

In the prevailing discourse, war is taken for granted as ‘part of life’, a ‘necessary evil’, or an honourable and effective route to prestige and power. This is fundamental to existing foreign policy. Now there is a new debate about the ‘responsibility to protect’, and the role of armies in providing protection. And while that debate goes on, at the other end of the interventionist spectrum, there are widely differing public views on ‘nuclear deterrence’, or the incorporation of weapons of mass destruction into foreign policy. But broadly speaking there is little debate on these and other dimensions of international relations.
Policies do not exist separately from politicians. Ethical policies need to be enacted by people who are ethically motivated. It is hard to recognise any genuine ethical component in the UK government’s foreign policy, as evidenced by recent action – despite the endless justifications for it. But was there a policy, agreed between relevant government departments, or were there only decisions, taken by the Prime Minister? Were those decisions determined by the belief that they were in the national interest or were they influenced by personal self-interest and ambition? We need to think about ethical psychology as well as policy. Perhaps changing norms and strengthening moral formation, at all levels of society, is what is most needed. If ethical appetite could be stimulated and a broader social consensus could be reached on what is ethical, there might be a better chance of creating ethical policy on international affairs that commands the respect of the population.

A prescription for change

Ethical policy on international affairs
In the first place, I would change the words and focus, from ‘ethical foreign policy’ to ‘ethical policy on international affairs’. I believe that the word ‘foreign’ is so locked into the notion of national interest that it blocks thinking about ethics and perpetuates the idea that a nation can, ethically and successfully, separate its own wellbeing from that of others. I do not agree with these assumptions. I believe that the nature of our ethical understanding is fundamental to our human dignity, wellbeing and fulfilment and that humanity rather than nation needs to be at the heart of our approach to the ethics of international relations. I also believe that the big threats we currently face, as humankind, are international or global in nature and call for an international philosophical, relational and political response, which is based on and informs our responses at the personal level. Formulating ‘ethical policy on international affairs’ means applying ourselves to engagement with matters of mutual interest and influence, and recognition of international responsibility.

An international approach to policy is needed to address the problems of climate change, war and endemic violence, inequality and poverty (with all their effects on human wellbeing), oppression and discrimination. These problems cannot be addressed by the policy or action of any nation alone and solutions cannot be imposed. (Imposition itself is part of the problem.) They will require the co-ordinated efforts of all people and a reduction in the sense of separation that currently plays such a dominant role in the way we think about who we are and what we do. Ethical policy on international affairs will be grounded in the notion of an international community. This too will be a community of the imagination, but one with an ethical basis that could take us beyond the old self-interest.

International politics and dialogue
Unfortunately, the phrase ‘the international community’ is mainly used by a few powerful countries to refer to themselves, implying that they act on behalf of all right minded governments, rather than in their own interests. To reclaim the term will be extremely difficult, taking us far from the current reality of the domination by the few over the many. A radical change of will be needed and it is hard to see how the current structures are going to allow that. But it must be attempted. A global conversation is needed that will start a movement of ideas. And it should begin at home.

The simple maxim of ‘do as you would be done by’ might be the most effective starting point for this conversation, engaging the heart and imagination as well as the head. Global ethics can also be embodied in experimental action, which can communicate more than mere words about the ethos of human responsibility and the ways in which it can be expressed. Such action is the most effective counter to engrained theories and assumptions, and enables the realisation that there are indeed other ways of doing things. In our field of conflict transformation we encounter this kind of action. It is our job not only to assist it where we can but also to make it known, so that it makes its own contribution to transforming the way we do international politics.

Those of us who work with people in different countries, experimenting with them in creative ways of addressing violent conflict, and learning from and with them as we go, should be able to play a very specific role in developing transformative theory and building bridges between activists in different places.

Then local activists need to connect to and strengthen the already existing and growing international movements for change. In this way they will not only strengthen their own understanding and influence; they will also exemplify the global co-operation for the common good that they are seeking to promote.

Thirdly, it is vital to remember that politicians are also ‘ordinary people’ and susceptible to change, and that the systems within which they operate, which may present seemingly-intractable obstacles, are in fact created by human beings and can therefore be changed or replaced by them.

Creating broad movements that are both cohesive and un-bureaucratic, and that avoid quarrels and division, is, to say the least, a challenge. But experience of local activism has shown me that surprising coalitions are possible, and new international movements give hope. And I believe that human nature gives our species not only the potential to destroy our planet but also the moral, social and intellectual capacity to do what is needed to survive and to live creatively together. Time will tell, and our effort can make a difference.

Notes

[1] See Francis, Diana. Rethinking War and Peace. London: Pluto Press, 2004  Return to the text

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