← Return to search results
Back to Prindle Institute

Afghanistan: The Graveyard of Liberal Interventionism?

image of topographic map of Afganistan and surrounding countries

After two decades, the war in Afghanistan (the so-called “graveyard of empires”) has been lost. The sudden defeat of the former Afghan government has sparked an outpouring of recrimination. It is time to take a step back and examine the ethical and political doctrine that was used to justify our nation-building mission in Afghanistan for so many years: liberal interventionism.

Liberal interventionists believe that countries such as the U.S. have an ethical and political duty to spread freedom across the globe — to nation-build, promote and defend democracy, political and civil rights, and international institutions. They argue that diplomatic, economic, and even military intervention can be justified in the name of liberty and humanitarianism.

The doctrine has deep philosophical roots. In his essay “A Few Words on Non- Intervention,” the liberal philosopher John Stuart Mill argued in favor of an ethical duty to intervene against “barbarous” states in order to bring liberty to the people of those states.

More recently, the philosopher Martha Nussbaum has defended some interventionism on humanitarian grounds. Her view is that intervention in a foreign country’s affairs can be justified or even ethically required if it is necessary for providing individuals with “basic capabilities,” such as the capability to live, be in good health, affiliate with others, and to maintain one’s bodily integrity.

Prior to the 2001 NATO invasion of Afghanistan, a liberal interventionist case for war was relatively clear. Under Taliban rule, Afghan citizens faced widespread human rights abuses. For example, women were forbidden from independent travel, from working, and from education over the age of eight. Women were also subject to cruel and arbitrary punishment. In 1996, a woman had the tip of her thumb cut off for the “crime” of wearing nail varnish. Given the appalling human rights abuses of the Taliban, Nussbaum’s conditions for intervention were likely met in Afghanistan.

Of course, it does no good to invade countries only to have them return to tyranny the next week. So intervention can only be justified, on the liberal interventionist view, if it produces lasting progress on human rights, democracy, and liberty. This suggests we have a duty to see our interventions through — to stay in Afghanistan until our humanitarian goals are secured indefinitely.

If there is such an ethical duty, we have violated it in withdrawing our military forces. The liberal-democratic Afghan government was too weak to resist the Taliban. Now Afghan democracy, education, healthcare and civil rights are all likely to be severely weakened or destroyed entirely. Before the recent withdrawal of international troops, Yamina Mishra, Amnesty International’s Asia-Pacific Director, claimed the move “threatens to undermine more than twenty years of progress for women and girls.” The shocking victory of the Taliban appears to be proving her right.

The Taliban have claimed they will abstain from human rights abuses of the past, that they will offer amnesty to those who worked with the former government, and that they will respect freedom of speech, expression, and women’s rights in a manner compatible with Sharia law. This, it has been claimed, is the “Taliban 2.0.” If these promises are kept, then withdrawal may be compatible with liberal interventionist principles. But, 25 years ago, as the Taliban seized Kabul, similar promises were made and quickly broken. To trust the Taliban to maintain the former Afghan government’s respect for human rights is likely wishful thinking. The doctrine of liberal interventionism would appear, then, to condemn Biden’s recent withdrawal.

Most Americans, however, think that withdrawal was the right choice. The U.S. fought in Afghanistan more than five times longer than in World War Two. It is a war that continued to take lives and cost billions each year, while our presence did not seem to be contributing to any progress. President Biden, during the withdrawal announcement, claimed that, “‘Just one more year’ of fighting in Afghanistan is not a solution, but a recipe for fighting there indefinitely.” Biden also appealed to the value of national self-determination, saying that, “It’s up to Afghans to make the decision about the future of their country.”

Despite facing widespread criticism in the media, Biden’s perspective is widely shared; seventy-three percent of voters approved of withdrawal while only twenty-three percent disapproved. Unusually, in this period of hyper-partisanship, a majority of both Republicans and Democrats approved of the withdrawal.

The popularity of the withdrawal might make it seem that America has lost whatever confidence it had in liberal interventionism. This conclusion may, however, be premature. Arguably, Biden’s withdrawal was ethically permissible even according to liberal interventionism.

Mill, the original proponent of liberal interventionism, argued that intervention is only justifiable in nations in which it will work. He writes:

“the answer I should give to the question of the legitimacy of intervention is, as a general rule, No. The reason is, that there can seldom be anything approaching to assurance that intervention, even if successful, would be for the good of the people themselves. The only test possessing any real value, of a people’s having become fit for [liberal intervention] is that they, or a sufficient portion of them to prevail in the contest, are willing to brave labour and danger for their liberation. […] the evil is, that if they have not sufficient love of liberty to be able to wrest it from merely domestic oppressors, the liberty which is bestowed on them by other hands than their own, will have nothing real, nothing permanent. No people ever was and remained free, but because it was determined to be so.”

Biden’s controversial recent speech hit similar notes:

“American troops cannot and should not be fighting in a war and dying in a war that Afghan forces are not willing to fight for themselves. We spent over a trillion dollars. We trained and equipped an Afghan military force of some 300,000 strong, incredibly well-equipped, a force larger in size than the militaries of many of our NATO allies. We gave them every tool they could need. We paid their salaries, provided for the maintenance of their air force. […] We gave them every chance to determine their own future. What we could not provide them was the will to fight for that future.”

Biden’s speech has been widely (and plausibly) interpreted as an ugly attempt to pin the blame for defeat on the Afghan people. But a more generous way to understand Biden is that he is making Mill’s point. If, after twenty years, we have failed to cultivate an Afghan government capable of resisting the Taliban, then there is no reason to think we would ever succeed. On Mill’s account, the blame falls not on the Afghan people, but on America and its allies for intervening while failing to foresee that nation-building would fail. On this reading, the withdrawal was simply a recognition of the painful fact that our nation-building project was never going to succeed, and was therefore never legitimate.

What the Moral Tragedy in Afghanistan Teaches

photograph of soldiers running in the desert

The current situation in Afghanistan brings to the forefront several moral issues which, taken together, create a complex situation with a great deal of uncertainty about how to proceed. With the clock ticking down until several nations, particularly the United States, pull out entirely from the country, the lives of millions hang in the balance, particularly those who are fleeing the Taliban for fear of reprisals and especially women. But how exactly should we understand this issue morally speaking? What moral responsibilities do nations have who actively occupied and developed the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan? Is this a moral tragedy? And if so, what should be done about it?

First, it is worth recounting what led us here. Since 2001, the United States and other NATO  allies have occupied Afghanistan after toppling the Taliban regime. These were actions taken in response to the Taliban harboring terrorist groups involved in 9/11. But building and supporting a new republic has been costly. Thousands of military personnel have lost their lives since then and the cost of occupation, development of the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan, and support in building the Afghan National Security Forces has been in the trillions.

In the meantime, the past twenty years has allowed a burgeoning democracy to exist in Afghanistan. In contrast to the Taliban rule of the 1990s, women have been given the freedom to be educated and to play a meaningful role in society including in journalism and the judiciary. Now many of these women, in addition to countless others who aided Western powers (such as interpreters) or who run afoul of traditional Taliban beliefs, are in mortal danger. Many seek to escape the country from the airport before the Taliban is able to take complete control. An entire generation of Afghanis may lose the only democracy they’ve ever known. The situation has reached a fever pitch with many now calling for a change of plans and with polls showing Americans unhappy with President Biden’s handling of the situation. In a situation as complicated as this, how do we morally make sense of it?

Firstly, there are several moral reasons which prompted the withdrawal in the first place. The United States has committed significant resources in the area both in troops and in money in an effort to prop-up the Afghan government for what many consider to be a ‘forever war’ that never had a chance of success.

In other words, the moral concern from people like President Biden is that while the U.S. had invaded Afghanistan to prevent terrorist attacks, the effort was not to “go to Afghanistan to nation-build.” While some believed that staying in Afghanistan would eventually lead to improvement, the sentiment from many military officials is that short of staying in perpetuity, the situation was never going to stabilize. Experts have predicted for some time that the war was ultimately unwinnable, that the Afghan government was corrupt, and that Afghan Security Forces would not succeed. Indeed, the pace at which the Afghan government fell to the Taliban after so much time, effort, and money had been spent could indicate how pointless staying ultimately would be.

All of these points suggest that, morally speaking, staying would not be worth the cost. Those, like Nikalas Gvosdev, suggest the adoption of a democracy triage mindset. As he notes, “U.S. support is not unlimited. If more is devoted to Afghanistan, or even sustained at current levels, it means less is available elsewhere for other equally deserving projects.” In other words, we cannot ignore the moral significance this scarcity of resources plays in determining the best course of action.

“With a population of about 36 million people, the question has to be asked as to whether that is the best investment of limited U.S. aid dollars versus other parts of the world where the same amount of money might lead to better outcomes for hundreds of millions more.”

On the other hand, philosopher Michael Blake emphasizes the ‘Pottery Barn rule’ (if you break it, you bought it): if you make yourself ruler over others, you are morally responsible for them. As Blake notes, “The decision to withdraw is likely to lead to enormous suffering in the years to come.” This means that the U.S. and other nations are to some degree morally responsible for the abuses that the inhabitants of Afghanistan will face. This would mean that it is incumbent on these nations to do something. To some, this means that “there is a moral case to remain and support Afghanistan against the Taliban threat” given the moral responsibility the West has to those who have embraced democracy, and because the costs of securing Afghanistan had been on the decline.

However, there is no magic undo button for the past few weeks and removing the Taliban would only be more costly now. There remain, however, lingering moral questions about what is owed to those who helped the West, those are being targeted by the Taliban, or those who simply want to leave. Gvosdev argues that in return for non-interference the U.S. should insist on the right to freely exit the country for those Afghanis who cannot live under the Taliban order. Indeed, much of the moral concern now is not whether to leave or stay, but rather what can be done to help given the terrible situation. Blake, and many other philosophers, would call this a moral tragedy – no matter what is done someone will be wronged – and so the best option is still one that is unmoral.

But this view is not one that should inspire moral apathy either. A forced choice between bad outcomes is no excuse for doing nothing anymore than claiming that since Afghanistan is a “graveyard of empires” (historically this isn’t really true) the situation was never going to resolve itself in a positive way. Indeed, this moral tragedy reminds us that ethics is not about choosing between good or bad options, but about weighing different, (and sometimes incommensurable) competing goods. Nevertheless, learning such lessons comes hard, as we are discovering right now in Afghanistan. But they also underscore the importance, as Blake explains, “that the U.S. tries to avoid entering into such morally tragic situations in the future,” and that people be more aware ahead of time of what their moral responsibilities demand. Perhaps that lesson learned could have avoided much of the “chaotic rush” we are now seeing, particularly when it comes to evacuations.

This only introduces yet another moral area of concern and that is the public. As Tom Nichols of The Atlantic argues, “this is on you” the voter. Even now as Biden’s approval ratings fall owing to the fallout of the withdrawal, it must be noted that the war’s beginning and the war’s end were popular. Minimizing moral tragedy means recognizing the role that one plays in creating them, and as Nichols notes, “Americans had no real interest in adult conversation about the reality of anti-terrorist operations in so harsh of an environment,” nor did they consider whether terrorism in Afghanistan had been effectively neutralized.

So perhaps this represents a failure of democracy as well. Just as was learned in Afghanistan, there is more to democracy than voting, so too is going to war a complicated business. For if the public is to be the warrant for future action, it can’t be the case that a war is allowed to fade into the background. A people cannot be expected to vote for war without knowing in advance what the situation is like, and the same goes for withdrawal. As most experts this week have made clear, the situation unfolding is not surprising (only surprising in terms of the speed at which events have unfolded).

While there are many lessons to be learned from Afghanistan, perhaps the public needs to recognize that when they beat the drum for war or call for the end of one, that they too bear moral responsibility for the outcomes. While Americans might blame the Biden administration for their handling of evacuations, they cannot blame the overall situation on their elected leaders for getting elected by calling for withdrawal. So, in addition to questions about the moral importance of either staying or leaving Afghanistan, and what means and resources should be used to aid the people of Afghanistan now, perhaps the most difficult moral question that haunts us is how to prevent moral tragedies like this from occurring again?

Our Moral Obligations to the Afghans

photograph of bootprints in the sand

On April 14, President Biden announced the withdrawal of all U.S. combat troops from Afghanistan by September 11, 2021. NATO forces, which today have a far larger presence in Afghanistan, will also depart, European officials reported. “We went to war with clear goals,” Biden said in a short speech. “We achieved those objectives.”

Noticeably absent from Biden’s speech was any mention of the many Afghans who, because of their collaboration with U.S. or NATO forces during the last twenty years, now face persecution under a Taliban government that, given the weakness and corruption of the current American-backed Afghan government, is likely to one day come to power. Nor did Biden mention the presumed fate of the many Afghans who took advantage of opportunities afforded by the U.S. presence. For example, today 40 percent of Afghanistan’s students are women. This is highly unlikely to continue under Taliban rule.

The moral case for opening our doors to Afghans is straightforward. Millions of Afghans have reasonably relied on American largesse and protection, and many have actively aided the U.S. in achieving its war aims. Those facts provide the basis for an obligation to protect those people from the harms they will surely suffer when the U.S. and its allies pull out of the country. In other words, we owe them protection from the Taliban because of what they’ve done for us, and because we allowed them to enjoy benefits under the pretense that we would ensure those benefits would remain available. And since no remedy other than resettlement can guarantee protection from these harms, we must provide the means for Afghans to safely make their way to this country or some allied nation, and we must help them readjust to their new lives in their new homelands.

Unfortunately, during the Trump administration the U.S. abnegated its role as a global leader for refugee resettlement. In 2017, for example, the U.S. for the first time resettled fewer refugees than the rest of the world combined. The refugee ceiling was progressively lowered after that; the FY 2021 refugee ceiling is the lowest in the history of the U.S. refugee resettlement program. Biden has said he will raise the ceiling, but didn’t sign the document required to put his announced policy change into effect. Biden can easily reverse Trump’s cruel policy, and should do so with all due haste. And, as I have argued, he should go further than this in the specific case of the Afghans, given our special obligations to them.

For those with a historical bent, our current predicament feels like déjà vu all over again. Some fifty years ago, the United States began its withdrawal from another unpopular “forever war” in South Vietnam. The death of the Republic of Vietnam finally arrived in 1975. Just as now, millions of Vietnamese then found themselves under a totalitarian regime that was committed to persecuting and “re-educating” large segments of the population to achieve ideological ends. There followed one of the greatest humanitarian crises in modern history, as millions of Vietnamese refugees — many of them former collaborators with the U.S. during the war — desperately took to the seas. From 1975, the U.S. opened its doors and provided resettlement support to over a million of these refugees, despite waning public support for refugees and a declining U.S. economy during the 1980s and early 90s.

Our country is far wealthier now than in 1975 — far more able to accommodate so many newcomers — despite the coronavirus-related economic downturn.  If we could at least come close to doing the right thing then, we can do so now. All it takes is the will and adequate political leadership.

Just War Theory and the Aims of Trump’s Airstrikes

The guiding concern of just war theory is that it is wrong to harm people, therefore it is wrong to harm people en masse, as we do in war. Thus, just war theory stems from the observation that aggression of all kinds requires justification, and the theory attempts to lay out the justification for acts of war. War is aggressive, and it harms and kills individuals as well as damages nations, and therefore we should take seriously the moral weight of the obligations to avoid it. The two principle realms that just war theory addresses are jus ad bellum (justified principles for entering war) and jus in bello (justified principles of conduct within war).

Continue reading “Just War Theory and the Aims of Trump’s Airstrikes”

Trial by Trump: The Case of Bowe Bergdahl

In June of 2009, 23-year-old Army Sergeant Bowe Bergdahl deserted his post at Mest Manko in Afghanistan.  Shortly thereafter, he was captured by the Taliban.  He was held as a prisoner of war for five years in deplorable conditions.  In 2014, President Barack Obama’s administration arrived at an agreement with the Taliban. In exchange for Bergdahl’s release, the United States would release five Taliban members from Guantanamo Bay.  The deal was controversial.  Many people felt that the U.S should not have negotiated with terrorists for release of a soldier that deserted his post.

Bergdahl’s case was a hot topic on the campaign trail during the 2016 presidential election.  Now-President Donald Trump commented on it frequently, referring to Bergdahl as a traitor and suggesting that if he could undo the deal, sending Bergdahl back into captivity and returning the detainees to Guantanamo, he would do so.  

Continue reading “Trial by Trump: The Case of Bowe Bergdahl”

This and That: Addressing Sex Crimes in Afghanistan

“This and That” is a series of articles in which two Prindle interns weigh on different ethical aspects to an issue. This week, interns Conner Gordon and Connor McAndrew discuss sex crimes in Afghanistan.

Two weeks ago, Representative Duncan Hunter (R, CA) introduced a bill called the Martland Act that would give commanders in the armed forces wider powers to confront criminal sexual abuse under their jurisdiction.  The bill comes after a well-publicized case in the fall of 2015 in which Sgt. First Class Charles Martland, a Green Beret, was put under review after assisting in beating up a local Afghan milita commander who kept a young boy chained to his bed as a sex slave.  

According to the New York Times, Sergeant Martland spent two tours in Afghanistan and was decorated with a Bronze Star for valor before being put under scrutiny for his participation in the assault.  Sgt. Martland wrote to the Army, stating that he and a fellow soldier, Captain Dan Quinn, ““felt that morally we could no longer stand by” and allow the Afghan Local Police to “commit atrocities”.  

Continue reading “This and That: Addressing Sex Crimes in Afghanistan”

Mes Aynak’s Intrinsic Cultural Value

One of the many reasons that weighing ethical dilemmas is such a challenge is because we’re often faced with a conflict between measurable and immeasurable value. We see this often in relation to environmental issues. Because we can’t place an exact value on the intrinsic worth of nature, we struggle to cognitively compare environmental health with economic benefits. Thus, many companies pursue profit over environmental wellness, without fully understanding the detrimental consequences. The inability to directly quantify something doesn’t entail that it is value-less or that its interest should be disregarded, but it can be awfully difficult to convince some groups of this. Continue reading “Mes Aynak’s Intrinsic Cultural Value”