'Just cause' or just callous? Australia’s justification for war
Jan 2004, published at uniya.org
John Howard did not get along well with former US President Bill
Clinton. The two national leaders were opposites in many ways. Clinton
did not appear to pay much attention to Howard during his own term
in office, and Howard may never have fully recovered from the embarrassment
of being kept waiting for Clinton in drizzling rain on his first
visit to Washington shortly after being elected to the top job himself.
However, on Clinton’s departure from the White House, Howard’s
fortune was to take a significant turn for the better. When President
George W Bush came to power in 2000, Howard finally found someone
in whom he could relate: both were churchgoers, socially conservative,
committed to free trade, and suspicious of the United Nations and
“Your President”, Howard once said to a US audience,
“[is] a man whose values I admire and in many ways share,
a man whose aspirations for his own society are very similar to
many of my aspirations for the Australian community”. Howard
made this comment of Bush during his second visit to the US on the
eve of September 11, 2001.
Howard was in Washington to mark the 50th anniversary of the ANZUS
defence treaty which linked Australia and New Zealand with the US
when terrorist-piloted commercial jets slammed into the World Trade
Centre and the cement walls of the Pentagon.
The presence of Howard in Washington on September 11, and the symbolism
of the event he was there to commemorate, are seen by many as a
turning point in US-Australian relations. The alliance between the
two countries became stronger than ever. The poignant circumstances
deeply affected how Howard viewed Australia’s place in the
“I feel the tragedy,” he immediately wrote to Bush,
“even more keenly being here in Washington at the moment.”
He then emphasised: “In the face of an attack of this magnitude,
words are always inadequate in conveying sympathy and support. You
can, however, be assured of Australia’s resolute solidarity
with the American people at this most tragic time.”
Was Howard implying something else when he said words were inadequate?
At a press conference the next day, he told reporters: “I’ve
… indicated [to Congress] that Australia will provide all
support that might be requested of us by the United States in relation
to any action that might be taken.”
When a reporter asked him what he meant by “full support”
Well, I’m talking diplomatically and otherwise. We haven’t
been requested to provide any military assistance, but obviously
if we were asked to help, we would. It is very important at a
time like this that America knows that she’s got friends.
This is in contrast to the more cautious comments from Foreign
Affairs Minister Alexander Downer who, in reponse to questions about
whether Australian troops would be deployed alongside any potential
US military action, said:
We have to find out – and find out beyond doubt, or beyond
reasonable doubt – who’s responsible for it before
we can make any assessment of what the United States, or the United
States can make any assessment about what they’ll do. When
we know what they’ll do, then, you know, we’ll have
some clarity on it. I shouldn’t think so, though. I shouldn’t
think it would involve Australians directly.
Howard obviously thought differently and, on a dramatic US air
force flight back to Australia, invoked Article IV of the ANZUS
treaty for the first time. In announcing the move on September 14,
he repeated a diluted version of what he said in Washington. “It’s
the unanimous view of the Cabinet that Australia stands ready to
cooperate within the limits of its capability concerning any response
that the United States may regard as necessary in consultation with
her allies,” he told reporters.
Before the implications of the terrorist attacks had been fully
defined and considered, the Government endorsed, despite some cautions,
any future US action. In those words, Howard set the tone for Australia’s
involvement in the war against Afghanistan and, within the following
18 months, Iraq. The Howard Government made it virtually impossible
to back away from participating in any US military action, if such
aid were requested, without endangering the alliance and Australia’s
diplomatic credibility. Australia was obliged and determined to
stand by its “great and powerful friend” no matter how
foolish her actions might turn out to be. Such uncritical enthusiasm
defies the rhetoric in the lead up to the war against Iraq that
the Government does not take a “blank cheque approach”
to Australia’s involvement in US military manoeuvres.
As citizens in a democracy that prides itself on its human rights
standards and the rule of law, let us hope that the decision to
take part in the unpopular military action in Iraq, action which
was outside the traditional framework of international law and which
killed tens of thousands of combatants and civilians, was for more
than just alliance-building. We would hope there were other moral
and legal rationales for Australia’s involvement so compelling
as to justify the cost of such a bold venture.
The road to Baghdad
The idea of regime change in Iraq was not new. Key administration
officials including Vice President Dick Cheney, Deputy Secretary
of Defense Paul Wolfowitz and Deputy Secretary of State Richard
Armitage have long argued for a more aggressive US foreign policy
in the Middle East, advocating in particular the removal of Saddam
Hussein. It took an event like September 11 for this small band
of hawks to turn a fringe idea into mainstream policy.
Barely a month after the fall of the Taliban in Kabul, the focus
officially switched to Iraq with Bush’s infamous State of
the Union address on January 29, 2002, in which he declared Iraq
to be part of the “axis of evil”. At first, the Howard
Government was cautious about the new direction. When asked about
Bush’s address, Howard avoided comments except to say that
he understood “exactly” what the President was saying.
Howard’s position was that any US request for Australia’s
support in military action outside of Afghanistan would be looked
at on its merit.
However, by March 2002 the Government started to publicly entertain
the issue. The Government would now consider any US request for
military assistance elsewhere against the background of Australia’s
“determination to stand with the Americans in the fight against
terrorism and the long and close relationship that exists between
[the] two countries.” For the next six months, the Government
toyed with the idea of a possible US-lead military action outside
Afghanistan and the conditions for Australia’s involvement
in such action. The need to be “strong and loyal and dependable
allies” featured prominently on the Government’s list
of rationales, although Howard was at pains to point out that he
had not given a “blank cheque”.
The reasons offered were various and included alliance building,
enforcement of UN resolutions and concerns for the human rights
of Iraqis. The Government even flirted with the emerging idea of
preemptive or preventative wars, a doctrine that was rejected as
“morally corrosive” by the US Government itself during
the height of the Cold War.
Acting in self-defence
The preemptive self-defence argument in the current post-Cold War
incarnation first emerged in 1992 in a classified draft policy document
prepared by Dick Cheney’s Department of Defence. The document
was rewritten and buried following controversy arising from its
leak to the press. It was not until 2002 that this argument surfaced
again in official US policy debates, culminating in the National
Security Strategy document of September. The document states:
Legal scholars and international jurists often conditioned the
legitimacy of preemption on the existence of an imminent threat.
… We must adapt the concept of imminent threat to the capabilities
and objectives of today’s adversaries. Rogue states and
terrorists do not seek to attack us using conventional means.
… The greater the threat, the greater is the risk of inaction
– and the more compelling the case for taking anticipatory
action to defend ourselves, even if uncertainty remains as to
the time and place of the enemy’s attack. To forestall or
prevent such hostile acts by our adversaries, the United States
will, if necessary, act preemptively.
Australia’s Defence Minister, Robert Hill, quickly picked
up the mood in the US and began endorsing the argument in Australia.
In a speech to the Australian Defence College in June 2002, he publicly
flagged Australia’s “in-principle” support for
preemptive war stating:
The United States is clearly no longer going to allow problems
to fester and threats to remain unresolved. The need to act swiftly
and firmly before threats become attacks is perhaps the clearest
lesson of 11 September, and is one that is clearly driving US
policy and strategy. It is a position which we share, in principle.
Proponents of the theory argue that September 11 put into sharp
focus the new security threats that emerged with the end of the
Cold War. They argue that the post-1945 system characterised by
containment and collective decision making on security threats was
designed to control large-scale inter-state conflict and, as such,
has not kept pace with the changed international environment. The
new threats concerned not only what used to be known as “rogue
states”, but also international terrorists, especially in
a technologically advanced environment. Although the weapons currently
owned by rogue states are relatively crude compared to the threats
posed by Soviet arsenals during the Cold War, they are potentially
more explosive because of the possibility of these weapons falling
into the hands of terrorists.
It is important to note that at no stage did the Bush administration
or Howard Government officially argued that international law needed
to be set aside. Rather, they called for some creative re-reading
of the law. “It’s time for a new and distinct doctrine
of preemptive action,” Hill argued. “But in the meantime
those responsible for governance will continue to interpret self-defence
as necessary to protect their peoples and their nations’ interests.”
This is why, two weeks after Bush declared an end to major combat
operations in Iraq, Howard was able to state in Parliament that
the “Australian military forces participated with just cause,
in an action properly based in international law, which resulted
in the liberation of an oppressed people.”
The idea of preemptive self-defence only had two fleeting appearances
in Australia as the Government quickly learned how politically unwise
such statements were in a country bordered by populous Muslim neighbours
and states scourged with their own terrorism problems. The Government
quickly dropped the rationale following strong rebuke from some
of Australia’s East Asian neighbours, although the factual
justification underscoring the argument itself – that Iraq’s
weapons of mass destruction (WMD) would end up in the hands of terrorists
– remained the cornerstone of the Government’s case
for Saddam’s removal.
Disarming a tyrant and upholding international law
The Government, however, did not limit creative interpretations
of international legal principles to the doctrine of self-defence.
At the same time it started flagging the preemptive argument, the
rhetoric about Iraq’s WMD began to surface. The legal justification
for dealing with this threat sheds some light on the Government’s
level of imagination in reading both the facts and the law.
The self-styled Coalition of the Willing (“Coalition”)’s
factual case against Saddam is well known. Saddam was said to possess
massive stocks of chemical and biological weapons and was seeking
to redevelop Iraq’s nuclear capabilities. He is said to have
obtained dual-use or mobile facilities to evade detection and deceive
weapons inspectors. Coalition members said Saddam made a mockery
of the UN by “thumbing his nose” at the will of the
Security Council (SC). They argued that Iraq must be disarmed in
order to bring about security in the region, enforce SC Resolutions
and deter other rogue states from similar ambitions.
We now know that some of the claims were, at best, exaggerated.
What is less well known but equally elaborate is the legal justification
for the removal of these weapons by force without an explicit resolution
from the SC. The Australian Government’s legal justification
relied on a series of existing UN resolutions on Iraq to claim that
authorisation exists for war directed towards disarming Iraq of
WMD and restoring international peace and security.
According to the Government’s advice, SC resolution 687 (1991),
which set out the ceasefire conditions after the first Gulf War,
ceased to be effective because of Iraq’s past and ongoing
breaches of that resolution as confirmed by SC resolution 1441 (2002).
As such, the breach reactivated an earlier SC resolution 678 (1990)
which sanctioned war against Iraq to eject it from occupying Kuwait.
This existing authority for war would only be negated “if
the Security Council were to pass a resolution that required member
states to refrain from the use of force against Iraq”, the
Most notable about this advice was the junior level of those who
wrote it – a middle-ranking officer in the Attorney General’s
department and a legal officer in the Foreign Affairs department.
It is unclear why the Government failed to approach Australia’s
top law officers for such an important advice. Fairfax journalist
Margo Kingston cynically speculated that it was “perhaps because
a more senior lawyer would not have put his [sic] name to such unequivocal
The advice was laden with assertions and the selective use of SC
resolutions. Former Commonwealth Solicitor General Gavan Griffith
QC called it “a fanciful proposition, an Alice in Wonderland
inversion of meaning of plain words in the resolutions themselves.”
Leading international jurists such as Hilary Charlesworth have dismissed
the advice as flawed. She argues existing resolutions only authorised
the use of force in the event of a further invasion by Iraq of Kuwait
and a further resolution would be required to determine whether
there had been a breach by Iraq severe enough to justify war. Indeed,
for the thirty-four foremost Australian jurists who signed a February
2003 statement against the war, far from being legal, it may well
constitute a war crime.
Liberating an oppressed people
During most of the early debates on whether to invade Iraq, the
Government did not focus much attention on Saddam’s human
rights records, which was clearly consistent with Australia’s
attitude when Iraq was still a strong trading partner. Human rights
would get a mention generally as an afterthought. Answering questions
at Howard’s National Press Club address in March 2003, he
said, “… if Iraq had genuinely disarmed, I couldn’t
justify on its own a military invasion of Iraq to change the regime.
I’ve never advocated that. Much in all as I despise the regime.”
This is a repeat of an earlier comment he made in September 2002
in the context of Saddam’s human rights record, when he said:
“I have made it very plain … that my priority, the priority
of the Australian Government, is getting rid of the weapons”.
As it became clear that the public were not willing to support
a war based on the elaborate continuing SC authorisation rationale
and the re-reading of the self-defence principle, the Government
began to push the moral and legal idea of “liberating an oppressed
people”. Known as the “humanitarian intervention”
rationale, it became the centrepiece for post-conflict justification
for the war.
The humanitarian justification is an idea that states can morally
and legitimately intervene by force in the affairs of another state
in order to protect against or avert large-scale violations of the
human rights of citizens of that state. This idea derives its authority
from the need to balance state sovereignty with the moral necessity
to act in the face of widespread suffering. Indeed, the SC under
Article 42 of its Charter has in the past authorised military action
against states by declaring that a situation is a “threat
to international peace and security”.
Of the three members of the Coalition, Britain’s Tony Blair
was by the far the most enthusiastic to have endorsed this principle.
In a July 2003 conference of “progressive” world leaders,
he caused controversy when he flagged the idea of the “responsibility
to protect”, an emerging norm in the humanitarian intervention
discourse. In a draft communiqué, which was later rejected
by the conference, he suggested:
Where a population is suffering serious harm, as a result of
internal war, insurgency, repression or state failure, and the
state in question is unwilling or unable to halt or avert it,
the principle of non-intervention yields to the international
responsibility to protect.
This is a verbatim statement of one of the principles to come out
of the International Commission on Intervention and State Sovereignty
(ICISS)’s 2001 report, The Responsibility to Protect. As an
abstract principle, few people would object to the idea of coercive
intervention in situations of grave suffering, such as Rwanda in
1994 in which close to a million people were needlessly slaughtered.
In practice, however, armed interventions almost inevitably come
with its own humanitarian costs in term of “collateral damage”
in both civilian death and damage to civilian infrastructure. More
importantly, humanitarian interventions are almost always tied to
great powers’ strategic priorities. When the strategic stakes
are sufficiently high, rushing into war becomes all too tempting.
The alternatives are non-military resolutions which are often limited
in scope and can leave the undesirable status quo intact.
That is why the ICISS report also sets out principles aimed at
restricting the circumstances in which intervention could occur.
Blair and other members of the Coalition seemed to have ignored
these inconvenient details. When these principles are measured against
the facts leading up to the War on Iraq, the idea that the invasion
was to liberate a suffering people begins to look hollow.
The requirements of “just cause” and “last resort”
demand large-scale human suffering that cannot be prevented by other
means. Such requirements may have been present when Saddam was gassing
the Kurds and the Shi’ites, but not in early 2003 and not
while UN weapons inspector Hans Blix was pleading for more time.
But what is even more troubling for Coalition members wishing to
use this argument is the requirement of “right intention”.
The fact that the Australian Government had offered the humanitarian
intervention rationale almost as an afterthought severely undermined
the credibility of such reasoning. Howard’s insistence that
the war was to “liberate an oppressed people” might
also have rung true had his Government not been so devoted to deterring
those fleeing from Saddam’s brutal dictatorship from seeking
refuge in Australia by holding them in remote detention camps, and
denying them their voice and legal status.
The peak US-based human rights organisation, Human Rights Watch,
agrees. Its latest World Report ruled out the idea that Iraq war
was a case of humanitarian intervention and warned against using
the principle to justify the war as such. “If [the war’s]
defenders continue to try to justify it as humanitarian when it
was not, they risk undermining an institution that, despite all
odds, has managed to maintain its viability in this new century
as a tool for rescuing people from slaughter,” the report
The Government has given many noble reasons for going to war against
Iraq and yet we are still left with the unsettling impression that
the true reasons for war have not yet been fully revealed. The Government’s
justifications appear to have been developed on the run, reflecting
more or less the discursive twists and turns in the US and, less
so, the UK. While various justifications were added and subtracted
in public discussions over time, fostering the US-Australian alliance
and the idea of “sticking by your mates” seems to have
been the only original and consistent Government rationale. But
this was not the main justification offered to us in the lead up
to the war. When the interests of the world’s most powerful
liberal democracy is equated with the interest of Australia and
the rest of the world, honest and reasoned decision-making seems
to have given way to an alliance-building agenda gone mad.
Minh Nguyen is a researcher at the Uniya Jesuit Social Justice
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