patriotism, war, and the limits of permissible partiality

Patriotism, War, and the Limits of PermissiblePartiality

Stephen Nathanson

Published online: 3 November 2009

� Springer Science+Business Media B.V. 2009

Abstract This paper examines whether patriotism and other forms of group par-

tiality can be justified and what are the moral limits on actions performed to benefit

countries and other groups. In particular, I ask whether partiality toward one’s

country (or other groups) can justify attacking enemy civilians to achieve victory or

other political goals. Using a rule utilitarian approach, I then (a) defend the legit-

imacy of ‘‘moderate’’ patriotic partiality but (b) argue that noncombatant immunity

imposes an absolute constraint on what may be done to promote the interests of a

country or other group involved in warfare or other forms of violent conflict.

Keywords Noncombatant immunity � Partiality � Patriotism � Universalism �Utilitarianism � War

Patriotism is, in certain ways, a highly specific phenomenon, but it is not completely

unique. If we take the simple definition ‘‘love of country’’ to characterize it, then

patriotism is a subset of the larger category of loves, set off from other loves by the

fact that its object is a country rather than a specific person, group, or collective

entity (such as a religion, race, or culture). Patriotism is also connected with ideas

about loyalty to one’s country, and the notion of loyalty suggests certain kinds of

behavior as appropriate or inappropriate. Here, too, loyalty to countries is but one

member of the set of loyalties to various individuals, groups, and collectives.1

S. Nathanson (&)

Department of Philosophy and Religion, Northeastern University, 371 Holmes Hall,

Boston, MA 02115, USA

e-mail: [email protected]

1 Kleinig (2007), For discussion of the definition of ‘‘patriotism,’’ see Nathanson (1993, Chapter 3).

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J Ethics (2009) 13:401–422

DOI 10.1007/s10892-009-9065-z

In drawing attention to the fact that patriotism is but one of many loves and

loyalties, I stress that there are features it shares with other types of love or loyalty. I

do not mean, however, that all loves and loyalties are identical except for their

object. As Simon Keller has noted, loyalty toward friends, sport teams, countries,

and families differ from one another in important ways.2 I do not deny his point. We

should be alert to differences, but we should also be alert to commonalities and

should resist the idea that patriotism is absolutely unique.

A central feature of patriotism is the idea of one’s country being special in a

certain way. Sometimes this specialness is identified with having inherent traits that

are especially valuable, but specialness may consist of relational properties as well.

For people who are patriots, their country may be special because of their

identification with it, their special feelings of concern for it, or the duties that they

might have to promote its good. Because these relationships do not extend to other

countries, patriotism is a form of partiality. Even if patriots have ties to other

countries, the preferences and duties that patriots have to their own country are

generally thought to exceed and have priority over duties that they might have to

other countries or their inhabitants.

While there are many interesting philosophical questions about patriotism, the

ones that I find most pressing and perplexing have to do with partiality and its limits.

They are aspects of the large scale problem alluded to in the title of Thomas Nagel’s

book, Equality and Partiality. Describing this problem, Nagel writes:

We do not yet possess an acceptable political ideal….The unsolved problem is

the familiar one of reconciling the standpoint of the collectivity with the

standpoint of the individual….The impersonal standpoint in each of us

produces…a powerful demand for universal impartiality and equality, while

the personal standpoint gives rise to individualistic motives and require-

ments….[T]he problem of designing institutions that do justice to the equal

importance of all persons, without making unacceptable demands on

individuals has not been solved….3

While Nagel mentions only the tensions between the individual and the universal

standpoints, there are partiality problems between individuals and groups, between

different groups, and between groups and the universal perspective. For Nagel, the

central unsolved problem is how to avoid the either/or of total partiality or total

impartiality by finding a proper balance that does justice to all persons while

recognizing the partiality that individuals feel to themselves, to other individuals,

and to specific groups.

Patriotism obviously embodies a partialist perspective. Patriots feel more

attached to their own country and are motivated by love or loyalty to promote and

defend its interests. From an impersonal perspective, however, the people who make

up other groups are of equal moral value. How then can we reconcile partiality

toward our own country with ‘‘the equal importance of all persons’’?

2 Keller (2007, Chapter 1).3 Nagel (1991, pp. 3–5).

402 S. Nathanson

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In this paper, I want to discuss the reconciliation problem that Nagel raises in

connection with patriotism and war. The extremity of war helps to make clear what

is at stake in discussions of patriotism and other forms of partiality. These questions

take on a special urgency in this context because the means for promoting one’s own

country’s well-being in war are necessarily actions that kill and injure people who

are members of enemy groups and frequently destroy valuable natural and

constructed features of an enemy society. This raises a question about how far one

may permissibly go in fighting a war. If partiality to one’s own side is legitimate,

how far may one go in promoting its interests? What moral limits on the conduct of

war are generated by the fact that one’s enemies are human beings with rights and

interests as well? And what moral permissions are generated by one’s patriotic

concern for one’s own country? In other words, what is the scope and what are the

limits of permissible partiality toward one’s own country?4

Questions about permissible partiality are magnified in importance when we take

seriously the fact that countries are not the only objects of love and loyalty. Just as

people belong to countries as members, people also belong to other types of groups

and are partial to other beings. The history of discussions about egoism and morality

provide one context in which such issues have been explored, but we can ask similar

questions not just about self-love but rather about the love of friends, family, tribes,

ethnic groups, religious groups and racial groups.5

In countries with weak central governments and civil strife, people seeking peace

and stability often lament the fact that no sense of national unity exists and that

people are willing to kill on behalf of their sect, clan, or tribe. In this case, patriotism

is weak and other loyalties are strong enough to motivate violent acts and insurgent

warfare. In some contexts, the strongest loyalties are toward family members, and

similar questions can be raised about the scope and limits of what is permissible in

defense of one’s family.

Liberation Versus Universal Humanism

To highlight the ways in which issues about partiality versus universality emerge in

many contexts, I want to discuss several points made by Aleksandar Pavkovic.6

Pavkovic’s central aim is to understand the perspective of Osama bin Laden and

the 9/11 terrorists by adapting ideas found in Franz Fanon’s writing on resistance to

colonialism in The Wretched of the Earth. Pavkovic finds Fanon’s ideas to be useful

as a guide in understanding how people could come to see violent attacks against

innocent individuals to be morally justified. Central to Pavkovic’s analysis is the

distinction between two perspectives, which he calls liberation humanism and

universal humanism.

Fanon’s view is a version of liberation humanism. A key element of this view,

according to Pavkovic, is the distinction between two groups, the oppressors and the

4 Aleksandar Pavkovic raises the same issue but takes a different approach to them in Pavkovic (2007).5 On racial loyalty, see Gomberg (2002), pp. 105–112 and Nathanson (2002), pp. 113–119).6 Pavkovic (2002, pp. 58–71).

Patriotism, War, and the Limits of Permissible Partiality 403

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oppressed. While Fanon was especially concerned about colonized peoples who

were controlled by members of another race, he believed, Pavkovic writes, that the

oppressors and the oppressed ‘‘could also be defined…by their class, their

profession or lack of it, their nationality, and, of course, their religion.’’7 However

they are distinguished, oppressed people are systematically humiliated and stripped

of their dignity. They are powerless and treated as inferior beings.

The oppressors humiliate the oppressed by controlling their lives and diminishing

their social status. They deny them the primary good of self-respect. While some

people in an oppressor group have special power and a special role in the process of

oppression, Fanon saw all members of the oppressor group as ‘‘involved in the

system of oppression’’ and concluded that just as there are ‘‘no ‘non-oppressed’

among the oppressed,’’ so likewise, ‘‘there are ‘no innocents’ among the

oppressors.’’8

Pavkovic cites a number of features of ‘‘liberation humanism’’ that explain why

terrorist attacks on apparently innocent members of an oppressor group are thought

to be justified. Liberation humanists believe that the oppressed are morally superior

to the oppressors ‘‘in their readiness to sacrifice their own lives for their liberation.’’

By contrast, they ‘‘divest the oppressors of their rights to life, dignity, and liberty’’

and consider their oppressors to be ‘‘ethically unequal to the oppressed.’’9

Liberation humanism reverses the facts of the world. In the real world, the

oppressors are superior because they have superior power and the oppressed are

inferior in power and social status. In the moral world, however, liberation

humanists sees members of the oppressor group as having a low moral status while

the oppressed are morally superior. Terrorism is seen ‘‘as a practical means of

securing humanist values in the world in which some groups and their members are

denied both liberty and dignity.’’10

Pavkovic contrasts liberation humanism with ‘‘universal humanism.’’ While both

forms of humanism cherish liberty and dignity, universal humanism does not

differentiate people by group membership. Instead, it affirms that ‘‘the ultimate

value is the life of every human being.’’ For this reason, it rules out acts of violence

except in self-defense against a direct threat against one’s life.11 Universal

humanists do not deny the oppressed the right to struggle for their own liberation,

but they impose constraints on the means by which the oppressed may do this. Even

if violence against innocent members of the oppressor group would succeed in

liberating the oppressed, it would still be wrong to engage in such acts because these

acts violate the supreme value of individual lives.

Pavkovic thinks that this analysis can help us to understand the actions of Bin

Laden and his supporters. In various statements, Bin Laden stresses what he sees as

a history of humiliation and degradation of Muslims at the hands of those United

States and certain other Western powers. It is Muslims who are the oppressed and

7 Pavkovic (2002, p. 59).8 Pavkovic (2002, p. 60).9 Pavkovic (2002, pp. 62, 66).10 Pavkovic (2002, p. 66).11 Pavkovic (2002, p. 67).

404 S. Nathanson

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the Western powers are the oppressors. Attacks on any U.S. citizens are legitimate

because they are members of U.S. society and thus share in the taint.12

I cite Pavkovic’s discussion here for several reasons. First, he makes a serious

attempt to understand the type of ethical perspective that might underlie terrorist

attacks—a courageous act at a time when such discussions might render Pavkovic

vulnerable to the charge of sympathizing with terrorists. Second, there are clear

echoes of Nagel’s partiality/equality distinction in Pavkovic’s account. Liberation

humanism is a partialist view that distinguishes two groups—oppressors and

oppressed—and elevates the moral status of one while denigrating the status of the

other. Liberation humanism rejects the universalist perspective that Nagel affirms

and that is expressed in universal humanism. Instead, like patriots and other

partialists, liberation humanists place the interest of one group above that of others

and give priority to their needs and interests.

Are There any Universal Humanists?

A particularly interesting feature of Pavkovic’s analysis emerges in his closing

remarks, where it becomes clear that he assumes that his readers are (or see

themselves as) universal humanists. Pavkovic assumes that his readers are people

who condemn terrorism and who will reject liberation humanism because it can be

used to justify terrorist acts. Further, since the alternative to liberation humanism is

universal humanism, readers will embrace universal humanism and its rejection of

terrorist attacks on innocent people.

We can see this assumption when Pavkovic writes of ‘‘our choice of universal

humanism’’ (emphasis added). It is also evident in his closing moral challenge to his

readers. He writes: ‘‘Our choice of this ethical vision [universal humanism] does not

entitle us…to tell others who face threats to their lives or liberty that…they, like us,

are obliged to follow the prescriptions of universal humanism.’’13 His point here is

that universalists who readily condemn terrorist violence generally do so from a

position of safety and security. We are not subjected to the violence, humiliation,

and threats to our liberty and dignity that oppressed people face.

While I find Pavkovic’s challenge and his call for moral humility powerful, I

think that he has misconceived his audience. While it is comforting to think that we

respect the value of all human beings and to contrast ourselves with terrorists who

attack innocent people, very few people are universal humanists in Pavkovic’s

sense. It is a virtue of Nagel’s discussion that he makes clear that all of us are

partialists to some extent, that all of us care more about some people than others,

and that all of us are motivated to benefit some people while we are not similarly

motivated with respect to others.

To see that universal humanism is not the standard view, we can begin by

contrasting the two perspectives that Pavkovic describes.

12 Pavkovic (2002, p. 61).13 Pavkovic (2002, p. 71).


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Liberation humanism Universal humanism

Belief in the superiority of the oppressed Belief in the equal worth of all people

Exclusive concern for the liberation of the

oppressed

Equal concern for all people

Unconstrained promotion of the liberation

of the oppressed

Moral constraints on the promotion of all goals, including

pressing moral goals

The chart below brings these contrasts closer to home both by showing the

similarities between liberation humanism and extreme patriotism and by drawing

out the implications of the universal humanist position.

Extreme patriotism Global universalism

Belief in the superiority of one’s own country No special affection for any country.

Exclusive concern for one’s own country Equal concern for all people.

Unconstrained promotion of the national good Promotion of the good of all people, not countries

If the characterization of global universalism in the table is correct, it is obvious

that this level of impartial regard for all people is not a common attitude. Most

people are partial to some individuals and groups. They have special affection and

concern for some favored groups and generally devote themselves to promoting the

well-being of these groups. Their attitudes about policy matters do not favor

cosmopolitan policies but instead support policies that favor themselves, people

they most care about, and collectives that they identify with.

While the qualities of the ‘‘extreme patriot’’ may seem a bit excessive, they are

nonetheless familiar, recognizable attitudes. It is common for people to glorify their

own nation, to be either exclusively or significantly more concerned about their own

country than about others, and to support the vigorous pursuit of the national

interest. In wartime, the pursuit of the national interest is often seen as having

priority over any other considerations.

To the extent that patriotism of this sort resembles the partiality of liberation

humanists, we can see that many people do not reject the logic of liberation

humanism—the idea that anything goes in pursuit of the liberation of the oppressed.

Rather, what people reject is the liberation humanist’s choice of the relevant group.

While Fanon supported people oppressed by colonialism and racism, extreme

patriots favor and support their own country. The patriotic perspective differs in

substance but not in form, and the form of loyalty and concern that both views

exemplify are much more recognizable than the attitudes of the universal humanist.

What these similarities show is that extreme patriots have even less basis for

criticizing liberationist terrorism than Pavkovic sees. Pavkovic thinks that he and his

readers are universal humanists and asks for humility in judging others who

embrace a more partialist view in dire circumstances. In fact, however, it is more

common for people to be partialists themselves and not universal humanists at all.

406 S. Nathanson

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This is especially clear when we think about attitudes toward warfare. An

influential view on the ethics of war is the realist idea that there is no such thing as

an ethic of war, that in the context of war, the highest priority is victory, period. No

moral constraints can trump this urgent goal. In war, then, partiality trumps

universality. This attitude, however, is identical to the liberation humanist view that

‘‘anything goes’’ in the pursuit of liberty and dignity for the oppressed. The realist

attitude is frequently affirmed by respected public officials and by academics. Even

Richard Brandt, a moderate, non-chauvinistic thinker, assumes that ‘‘the rules of

war may not prevent a belligerent from using all the power necessary to overcome

the enemy….’’14 Moreover it is widespread in ordinary thinking. Even early in

World War II, a majority of U.S. citizens favored bombing Japanese cities, and an

article in Harper’s magazine asserted that the U.S. was ‘‘justified in taking any

action which will save the lives of American soldiers and sailors.’’ At the same time,

people who criticized the bombing of German cities ‘‘were denounced as hopeless

idealists, fools, or traitors.’’15

Like liberation humanism, standard attitudes toward warfare are strongly

partialist and either totally or substantially reject the universalist perspective. For

this reason, patriots who affirm an ‘‘anything goes’’ rule for warfare are in no

position to denounce terrorist acts carried out on behalf of other groups, whether

they be followers of Islam or activists seeking to liberate people from colonial and

racial oppression.

The Moderate Patriotism Solution to the Equality/Partiality Problem

Returning to Nagel, I think we can see that he is right about the moral importance of

both the partialist and the universalist perspectives. And, he is right about the need

to find the proper balance that does justice to both partiality and universality. In

Patriotism, Morality, and Peace and other writings, I have argued that there are

different forms of patriotism and that moderate patriotism provides the proper

balance between the claims of partiality and the claims of universality. The chart

below illustrates how moderate patriotism escapes the extremes represented by

extreme patriotism and global universalism.

Extreme patriotism Moderate patriotism Global universalism

Belief in the superiority of

one’s own country

Special affection for one’s own country No special affection for any

country

Exclusive concern for one’s

own country

Special (but not exclusive) concern for

one’s own country

Equal concern for all people

Unconstrained promotion of

the national good

Promotion of the national good by

morally acceptable means

Promotion of the good of all

people, not countries

14 Brandt (1974, p. 32). In Nathanson (Forthcoming), I argue that this claim is inconsistent with Brandt’s

overall rule utilitarian position.15 Downes (2008, pp. 136–137).


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According to the moderate patriotic view, there is nothing wrong with being

partial toward one’s own country, but how one acts on this felt partiality is morally

constrained by a recognition of the equal humanity of others. The upshot is that

patriots can be specially concerned to promote their country’s good, but they accept

that this must be done in morally acceptable ways. They reject the extreme patriot’s

view that the national interest can be sought in completely unconstrained ways.

Moderate patriotism seems to provide a solution to Pavkovic’s problem. He

seems to assume that one can only criticize the partiality of liberation humanism

from a universalist perspective. If this were true, few people could criticize terrorist

attacks on innocent people because few if any people are universalists in this sense.

Even if people are not patriots, they are virtually always partial to some groups

(ethnic, religious, racial, class) or to individuals (family, friends, themselves). A

person who believed that ‘‘anything goes’’ in defense of whatever groups or

individuals they are partial towards would share the trait (found in both extreme

patriotism and liberationist humanism) that is responsible for their willingness to

kill innocent people in order to advance the interests of their favored group.

Moderate patriotism, however, combines elements of partiality and universality.

Though it rejects a purely universalistic view, it recognizes constraints on the means

by which groups can pursue their own good. In this way, moderate patriotism shows

that people do not have to be universal humanists in order to criticize people whose

partiality leads them to approve of terrorist attacks.

Problems for Moderate Patriots

The central aim of moderate patriotism is to make the moral claims of countries and

other groups compatible with the moral claims of humanity. Moderate patriots face

several serious challenges, however.

Not surprisingly, extreme patriots challenge moderate patriotism for conceding

too much to universalism. For extreme patriots, communitarians, and others with

intense commitments to particular kinds of groups (the oppressed, for example), the

moderating tendencies of views that try to balance partiality with universality are

illegitimate departures from the true commitment that people should have to their

country or other favored group. This criticism assumes partiality as a starting point

and challenges moderate patriots to justify their departures from partialism.

The second challenge comes from universalists. Given the equal value of all

persons, how can moderate patriots justify partiality for their own country? If all

people are moral equals, what justifies the moderate patriot’s special concern for

and commitment to promoting the good of one particular country rather than

promoting the good of all people?

Both of these questions have been discussed in debates about patriotism and

cosmopolitanism, with Alasdair MacIntrye famously deriding moderate patriotism

as emasculated and Peter Singer faulting all versions of patriotism for ignoring the

equal moral status of all people.16

16 MacIntyre (2002); Singer (2002), I criticize MacIntyre’s views in Nathanson (1989) and criticize

cosmopolitan views in Nathanson (2007).

408 S. Nathanson

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Here I want to focus on a different challenge. What does moderate patriotism

amount to in practice? Exactly what is the scope of permissible partiality? And how

is partiality limited by the demands of universalism? In particular, what does

moderate patriotism imply about the conduct of war?

A general answer is that because moderate patriotism does not require people to

be impartial, patriots may legitimately fight for and support their own country’s

efforts to achieve victory and defeat their enemies. Nonetheless, although this

partiality is permitted, the universalist strand in moderate patriotism imposes

constraints on both the entry into war and the means that are used to win a war.

Moderate patriots will not hope for victory for their country if it is an unjust

aggressor. Nor will they favor an ‘‘anything goes’’ approach to the waging of war.

They will rule out some means of fighting as morally unacceptable. By recognizing

these constraints on the initiation and conduct of war, people partial to their own

country acknowledge the humanity of the enemy and attempt to strike a balance

between the partiality of patriotism and the universalism of the impersonal

perspective.17

Though this answer is right in outline, it is too abstract. We need to know what it

amounts to in practice. In the context of war, exactly what kinds of constraints on

war-fighting do moderate patriots support? To answer this, I want to consider what

moderate patriotism says about a central principle in just war theory and

international humanitarian law, the principle of noncombatant immunity. We know

that extreme patriots reject this principle and favor doing anything that is required

for victory, but it is not clear what moderate patriotism says about noncombatant

immunity. Having rejected extreme patriotism and the non-ethic of ‘‘anything

goes,’’ how do moderate patriots balance the desire for victory for their own country

with a concern for the interests of enemy civilians?

The easy answer is that moderate patriots will want victory for their country but

will not be indifferent to the fate of enemy civilians. But this does not tell us how

much weight they will give to the lives of enemy civilians and how much they are

prepared to sacrifice in order to avoid harming enemy civilians. To focus these

issues more clearly and concretely, I want to ask which of the following rules for

war-fighting a moderate patriot will accept.

A. Do not attack enemy civilians unless doing so will save your own soldiers’

lives or help your country achieve victory.

This principle creates a presumption against attacks on enemy civilians, but it is a

weak presumption that is over-ridden whenever such attacks have military value.

B. Do not attack enemy civilians unless doing so is necessary to save large

numbers of your own soldiers or makes a substantial contribution to achieving

victory.

This principle begins with the same presumption against attacking civilians but

allows such attacks only when their military value is very substantial.

17 For a different but overlapping approach, see Erskine (2000).


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C. Do not attack enemy civilians unless your own country faces a ‘‘supreme’’

emergency: i.e., a situation in which your country faces an imminent threat by

an extraordinarily evil enemy and attacking enemy civilians is the only

effective means that it has to respond to this threat.

This principle, defended by Michael Walzer, recognizes a strong presumption in

favor of noncombatant immunity and allows it to be over-ridden only in very

extreme circumstances.18

D. Do not attack enemy civilians.

This principle treats the prohibition on attacks against civilians as absolute and

classifies all deliberate attacks on civilians as impermissible means of seeking

victory.

In presenting these possible rules, I intend them to be in increasing order of

demandingness (I also limit my attention to deliberate attacks on civilians and

ignore the killing and injuring of civilians as collateral damage). While each rule

requires some consideration for people who are not fellow citizens, A is less

demanding than B, B is less demanding than C, and C than D.

The Power of Partiality

Note that by describing these rules as increasing in their degree of demandingness, I

implicitly take a partialist perspective as a baseline. This description assumes that

we would naturally want to do as much as possible for our country and that morality

demands that we limit how much we can do on our country’s behalf. So, in moving

from A to B to C and D, each rule curbs more and more the inclination to act out of

partiality. For this reason, it is harder to act in accord with D than to adhere to A.

This description conflicts with one interpretation of Nagel’s remarks on the

relationship between equality and partiality. For Nagel, both perspectives are

features of us, and both seem to exert substantial power on us. Thus, he writes,

The impersonal standpoint in each of us produces…a powerful demand for

universal impartiality and equality, while the personal standpoint gives rise to

individualistic motives and requirements.19

There is an ambiguity in Nagel’s claim that the impersonal standpoint produces a

‘‘powerful demand’’ for impartiality. This could mean a morally powerful demand,

i.e., a demand that asks a lot from us. Or, it could mean a psychologically powerful

demand, i.e., a demand that we are strongly motivated to act on. Nagel’s description

of these perspectives appears to suggest that they are equally powerful psycholog-

ically. In fact, the individualistic motives and requirements that Nagel notes have a

compelling immediacy about them that impartial moral demands often seem to lack.

18 Walzer’s makes his case for noncombatant immunity in Walzer (1977, Chapter 8); he defends the

supreme emergency exception in Chapter 16. For a discussion of Walzer’s view, see Nathanson (2006).19 Nagel (1991, p. 4).

410 S. Nathanson

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Consider, for example, a case in which compliance with noncombatant immunity

makes it harder for one’s own country to achieve victory or makes it more likely

that one’s own country’s soldiers will suffer greater casualties. In this case, there

would be a tension between a desire that one’s country and the soldiers with whom

one shares a national identity not be harmed and a desire that unknown people with

whom one shares no personal or associational relationship shall not be harmed. The

kind of detached, impartial commitment that one may feel toward enemy civilians

who are strangers contrasts sharply with the kind of felt connection to fellow

citizens who, like you, are facing an enemy at war. In such a case, even for people

who recognize impartial moral demands, the burdens of complying with those

demands will be heavy. In order to comply, people will have to overcome powerful

partialist motivations to do whatever it takes to preserve and protect their own

country and its citizens (some of whom are also one’s friends, neighbors, and family

members).20

Recall Pavkovic’s description of the liberationist humanist perspective, and

imagine that you are a member of a group that is oppressed. You yourself

experience humiliation and powerlessness, and the people that you know and care

most about (your family, your close friends) suffer the same degradation. According

to the universal humanist, it would be wrong for you to seek to liberate your group

by killing and injuring innocent members of the oppressor group. To comply with

this judgment, you would have to refrain from harming people whom you probably

do not know personally and who belong to a group that you hate. Moreover, you

may believe attacking these people could help to liberate the people that you care

most about from degradation and oppression. In this situation, the requirement that

one comply with prohibitions on attacking innocent people will not be an easy

constraint to accept.

In making these points, I do not mean to deny that people often have a sense of

the humanity of strangers.21 They often sympathize with the plight of unknown

strangers who are victims of natural and human disasters. People often have a strong

aversion to inflicting harm on people they do not know and with whom they share

no group membership. Moreover, in large societies, there is a kind of abstractness

about one’s relationship to fellow citizens of one’s own country. Modern nations, at

any rate, are ‘‘imagined communities’’22 of people who are strangers at a personal

level. Nonetheless, in typical cases, personal and associational ties serve to create a

sense of ‘‘us’’ that can motivate concern for the well-being of others and a

willingness to act on their behalf. Typically, these motivations are stronger than

those felt toward people who are unknown to us and who fall into one or another

category of ‘‘them.’’ War accentuates the power of us/them contrasts and diminishes

the motivation to make sacrifices of ‘‘us’’ for the sake of ‘‘them.’’

The power of partialist perspectives derives from the strong motivations that are

often bound up with our attachments to particular individuals or groups. We care

20 For a good discussion of these tensions, see Benvenisti (2006).21 For evidence of widespread support for noncombatant immunity, see the results of surveys done in

many countries in International Committee of the Red Cross (2000).22 The phrase comes from Anderson (1983).


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about them. We want to promote their interests. We want to protect them. And,

typically, because we care more about those to whom we are partial, moral demands

that counter these motivations will have less motivational power and will be more

difficult to comply with.

Yet, if we want to condemn terrorists whose partiality for their own group

motivates them to kill and injure innocent members of other groups, then we must

believe that these terrorists ought to have constrained themselves and honored the

humanity of ‘‘them’’ (the terrorists’ enemies) rather than acting on behalf of ‘‘us,’’

the group whose interests the terrorists promote. In other words, hard as it might be

for us to comply with the moral demands of noncombatant immunity, if we believe

that others have this duty in spite of their strong partiality for their own group, then

we must accept the same burden on ourselves.

Justifying Partiality and Discovering its Limits

In the final sections of this paper, I want to do two things. First, I want to show how

patriotism and other forms of partiality can be justified from an impartialist

perspective. Second, I will argue that once we take this perspective, we will see why

the strongest from of noncombatant immunity—position D, which absolutely

forbids direct attacks on enemy civilians—is the one that best balances the

competing elements of partiality and universality. It sets the morally appropriate

limit on patriotic partiality in war.

Even before I offer my argument, a partialist might raise the following challenge:

Why must partiality be justified from an impartial perspective? Why not take

partiality as fundamental and then see whether universalism can be justified? While

I agree that partiality may be psychologically and motivationally primary, I do not

see how it can be primary either morally or epistemologically. As Thomas Hobbes

and others have made clear, it is the clash of partialities that gives rise to the need

for morality. All people, following partiality alone, will favor themselves and

people they care about. The problem is to devise a moral system that will allow

people to coexist in spite of their clashing needs and interests. Partiality sets the

problem but cannot provide the solution. The solution has to come from a different

perspective.

The shift can be done in various ways, but all involve the adoption of some kind

of impartialist perspective. Social contract theories and utilitarianism are two

versions of this, as is Immanuel Kant’s universalization test. Basically, moral rules

are justified when they could be justified by people with conflicting partialities. In

order to do this, they need to reason in ways that do not automatically give

themselves and their own partialities priority. Again, the problem is to find out how

people can coexist given their conflicting partialities, and every reasonable answer

involves accepting some constraint on how people pursue their interests.

With respect to the issues of patriotism and the conduct of war, two questions

need to be answered. First, we need to ask what justifies patriotic (and other)

partialities. Second, we need to ask what limits there are on the means by which

countries (and other groups) may try to win wars. Writing from a rule utilitarian

412 S. Nathanson

123

perspective, Brandt has formulated the second question in a very helpful way. He

asks: ‘‘What rules would rational impartial people, who expected their country at

some time to be at war, want to have as the authoritative rules of war…?’’23 We can

adapt this formulation to the first question as well, asking whether rational impartial

people would adopt moral rules that permit partiality toward one’s own country and

other groups. Or would they adopt cosmopolitan moral rules that reject patriotic

loyalty and require equal concern for all?

A Rule Utilitarian Basis for Patriotism?

Although utilitarianism is only one of a variety of impartialist perspectives, I am

going to approach these questions from a rule utilitarian perspective.24 Suppose that

our goal is to do as much good as possible for everyone and that we count all people

equally. Starting with this egalitarian, cosmopolitan view, we might adopt moderate

patriotic principles for the following sorts of reasons. First, given the limits on our

knowledge we are better equipped to deal with people and situations that are close

to home because we know them better. Second, even if everyone were purely

benevolent, if different people attempt to do good for all everywhere, their diverse

plans are likely to conflict with one another, and they would get in each other’s way,

thus adding coordination problems to problems of knowledge. Finally, even with

more extensive knowledge, our ability to effectively implement ideas is often quite

limited. We have more power to influence what is closer by and more familiar than

what is more distant and strange.

For these reasons, rational, impartial people who seek the good of all would find

it useful to divide up the task of doing good and to encourage different people to

focus on specific groups and places. Partiality would be justified because it permits

more effective promotion of the overall good. Here, as elsewhere, the division of

labor is an effective means of achieving a goal. And, given that rational impartial

people would support such a system, we can see that the kind of division of labor

that patriotic partiality exemplifies is perfectly compatible with recognizing that all

people have equal worth.

While this argument can justify a division of labor between people in different

countries, it may not justify the rules and practices that are currently in place.

Indeed, when rules and practices are shown to be defective—because of changes in

world conditions, changes in our understanding of the world, or changes in our

ability to affect conditions—then alterations in the system of rules may be required.

For example, if our ability to act beneficially in other countries increases, the extent

of our duties to people in other countries may increase as well. And if changes in our

ability to act destructively occur, then practices of war that were once acceptable

may cease to be so.

If we use this type of argument to justify patriotic partiality, it is clear that the

partiality that is justified will not be the partiality of extreme patriotism. Nor will it

23 Brandt (1974, p. 26).24 In this section, I draw on Nathanson (2007, pp. 88–90). My argument is indebted to Goodin (1988/89).


123

justify the ultra-permissive approach to warfare defended by realists and expressed

in the slogan ‘‘all’s fair in love and war.’’ The rules of war that are morally

acceptable will permit countries to defend their legitimate interests but will prohibit

wars for unjust causes and will prohibit excessively destructive means of fighting.

This is because the legitimacy of patriotism derives from a division of labor whose

ultimate purpose is to do good for all. Thus, both the scope and the limits of patriotic

partiality will be determined by their acceptability to ‘‘rational impartial people’’

who want a system that rests on a recognition of the equal worth of all.

Patriotism and Noncombatant Immunity in War

Using this perspective, what can we determine about the scope and limits that apply

to the conduct of war? In particular, which approach should moderate patriots take

to the problem of noncombatant immunity? Earlier I sketched four different types of

noncombatant immunity rules, each of which gives some consideration to enemy

civilians but each of which differs in the strength of the prohibition on attacking

enemy civilians. The four rules are:

A. Do not attack enemy civilians unless doing so will save your own soldiers’

lives or help your country achieve victory.

B. Do not attack enemy civilians unless doing so is necessary to save large

numbers of your own soldiers or makes a substantial contribution to achieving

victory.

C. Do not attack enemy civilians unless your own country faces a ‘‘supreme’’

emergency: i.e., a situation in which your country faces an imminent threat by

an extraordinarily evil enemy and attacking enemy civilians is the only

effective means that your country has to respond to this threat.

D. Do not attack enemy civilians.

Now, it might seem obvious that even moderate patriots would want to minimize

the sacrifices required of their own country and would accept A, B, or C. I want to

argue, however, that D, the strongest form of noncombatant immunity, is the one

that they ought to accept.25 Principles that allow for exceptions to noncombatant

immunity go beyond the limits of permissible partiality.

In order to show this, I will focus on Rule C, which allows violations of

noncombatant immunity only in the most dire, ‘‘supreme emergency’’ circum-

stances. If I can show that this rule exceeds the limits of permissible partiality,

then it will be clear that A and B, which are more permissive than C, are also

mistaken.

25 The following argument for noncombatant immunity is developed more fully in Nathanson

(Forthcoming).

414 S. Nathanson

123

A Rule Utilitarian Defense of Noncombatant Immunity

Having sketched a rule utilitarian argument for the legitimacy of patriotic partiality

and for limits to permissible partiality, I want to use this approach to determine the

extent of noncombatant immunity. If rational impartial people who are concerned to

advance the common good are trying to determine what people with partial loyalties

should be permitted to do in waging wars, would they adopt a strict prohibition on

attacks on civilians? Or, would they permit such attacks in supreme emergency

conditions?

Recall that the legitimacy of patriotic partiality is rooted in a comparison

between trying to achieve the good for human beings by a cosmopolitan strategy of

everyone trying to promote the well-being of all and a division of labor strategy that

divides up the work by allowing people to focus their efforts on particular groups

and territories. In determining the scope and limits of this permissible partiality, the

proper balance is arrived at by trying to rule out actions on behalf of single countries

that threaten the well-being of humanity at large.

While I am assuming that warfare is sometimes permitted as a means of

defending the legitimate aims of particular groups, we need rules of war that limit

the harms to human beings generally. The principle of noncombatant immunity is

just such a rule. If we are interested in permitting war but limiting the damage

caused by war, we will put civilians off limits to attack in part because there are

many more civilians than combatants. If civilians were immune from attack, that

would significantly diminish the potential destructive impact of war on human life

and human well-being. Very simply, fewer people would be permissible targets.

In support of this point, the experience of twentieth century wars is certainly

relevant. Consider the following chart, which gives the estimated numbers of deaths

in several wars:

War Military (%) Civilian (%) Total deaths

World War I 95 5 37 million

World War II 52 48 60 million

Korean War 16 84 700 thousand

Vietnam War 10 90 1.25 million26

While the numbers of people killed in these wars are staggering, the increase in

civilian casualties is particularly striking. Almost half of the sixty million people

killed in World War II and eighty to ninety percent of the deaths in Korea and

Vietnam were civilian victims. But it is not just the numbers that matter here. There

is also the contribution to effective war-making that these casualties are supposed to

make. There is no reason to believe that the civilian deaths significantly diminished

the fighting capacity of the belligerents. As long as combatants could fight on, the

civilian deaths did not directly weaken the enemy forces and therefore did little to

26 Wells (1996).


123

achieve military success. Overall, then, it is reasonable to predict that rejecting

noncombatant immunity leads to more deaths overall while achieving less military

value than attacks on military targets.

While this argument rests on plausible empirical premises, these premises can

certainly be challenged. Consider World War I, which had a relatively low rate of

civilian casualties but overall was massively destructive, killing millions of

soldiers.27 A critic could argue that military casualties would have been lower had

civilian targets been more vigorously attacked. While this is possible, the experience

of World War II suggests that it is unlikely. Adding civilian targets in World War I

would simply have created a broader field for destructive activity. Anyone making

the argument that World War I would have been less destructive in total lives if

more attacks on civilians had been permitted would have to establish two

counterintuitive claims: first, that vastly increasing the number of people who

constitute permissible targets would have decreased the overall casualties of the

war, and second, that attacking people who were not engaged in fighting would have

made a greater contribution to winning the war than attacking people who were

actually engaged in combat. Neither of these is plausible.

Overall, then, it is reasonable to predict that rejecting noncombatant immunity

leads to more deaths overall while achieving less military value. Acceptance of and

adherence to a noncombatant immunity rule would have greatly diminished the

damage to human life and human well-being caused by twentieth century wars.

Is There a Rule Utilitarian Case for the Supreme Emergency Exception?

Would rational impartial people designing rules of war for countries and other

groups agree with Walzer that there should be a supreme emergency exception to

the prohibition of attacks on civilians? Perhaps such an exception could be defended

in the following way. Consider defensive rights (rights to take action in one’s one

defense) and immunity rights (the right not to be attacked by others) in ordinary life.

In ordinary life, people do not generally have a right to kill other people, but in

extreme circumstances, when their own or other people’s lives are threatened,

people are permitted to kill those who initiate such attacks. If faced with the choice

between an absolute ‘‘do not kill’’ rule and a ‘‘do not kill except in extreme

circumstances of attack on oneself (or others) and no other options of defense,’’ one

could plausibly argue that we maximize good results by permitting the (self-)

defense exception. Defensive rights put would-be attackers on notice that they may

face violent response to their attack. Thus, including this exception to ‘‘do not kill’’

provides a disincentive for initiating unwarranted attacks on people. This is the

same type of argument that utilitarians can use to justify defensive war as a

legitimate exception to a ‘‘do not go to war’’ rule.

The question is whether this same reasoning can justify the acceptance of the

supreme emergency exception to noncombatant immunity. Could not this exception

27 World War I was not free of anti-civilian strategies. For discussion of the use of blockades, see

Downes (2008, Chapter 3).

416 S. Nathanson

123

be defended by claiming that it would be likely to deter attackers from trying to

exterminate or enslave whole groups or otherwise use drastic, inhumane forms of

attacks on enemy civilians? Why would a rule utilitarian not support this rule rather

than an absolute ban on attacking civilians?

In answering this question, it is important to begin by recalling what it means to

build this exception into our moral code. By recognizing this exception, we would

be constructing an ethic of war that tells people that although they are generally

forbidden from attacking civilians, there are some circumstances in which this is

permitted. We would then describe the circumstances along the lines of Walzer’s

view: an extraordinary threat, the prospect of imminent defeat, no alternative

effective strategies of resistance, and some prospect of success by adopting the

tactic of attacking enemy noncombatants. In other words, we would be announcing

publicly that deliberately killing civilians is sometimes morally permissible. Should

we do this?

Bernard Gert, in an insightful discussion of the circumstances under which

violations of established moral rules are justified, identifies what he calls ‘‘the

morally decisive question.’’ The morally decisive question is ‘‘What effects would

this kind of violation being publicly allowed have?’’ Elaborating on this point, Gert

explains:

[I]t is not the consequences of [a] particular act that are being considered, but

the consequences of…everyone knowing that this kind of violation is

allowed….for one is acting impartially in violating a moral rule only if one

would be willing for everyone to know that they also are allowed to violate the

rule in the same circumstances.28

According to Gert, it is the acceptance of a rule or an exception into the moral

code that is tested by the consequences, not the consequences of particular acts. If

an exception to a rule is accepted into a moral code, that exception will be known by

all to whom the code applies.

If we apply this perspective to the supreme emergency exception, we can see

several things. First, while it is certainly understandable that particular people or

groups in desperate circumstances might feel justified in attacking other innocent

people, our understanding of why they feel justified is not sufficient for their attacks

to be morally justified. In order to know that they are justified, we have to know

whether the type of act they are considering should be a recognized exception in a

publicly known moral code.

Why might the supreme emergency exception not pass this test? One problem is

that the exception is both vague and likely to be applied in an arbitrary, subjective

manner. Even Michael Walzer, who introduced this term, seems to apply the

concept of a supreme emergency in a somewhat arbitrary and subjective way. As

Tony Coady has noted, although Walzer cites Nazi Germany as posing an

extraordinary threat that created a supreme emergency circumstances, Walzer rather

casually asserts that the threat posed by Japan never constituted a supreme

emergency. As Coady points out, however, the Japanese massacred over 300,000

28 Gert (1998, pp. 236–237).


123

Chinese civilians in just six weeks in the single Chinese city of Nanking. Countless

Chinese people were beheaded, bayoneted, and raped.29 Excluding this from the

category of ‘‘extraordinary evil’’ does not seem justified.

Suppose that we decide to include the Japanese threat to the Chinese and other

Asian peoples as a supreme emergency. If we do, then attacks on Japanese civilians

by the Chinese and others might have been justified. Perhaps, the Chinese would

have been justified in massacring, beheading and raping hundreds of thousands of

Japanese civilians. Is a permission to engage in this behavior something that we

want to include in a moral code that all will know? And if this specific behavior

sounds too dreadful to permit, recall that the bombings of German cities that Walzer

defends involved the creation of huge firestorms in which thousands of ordinary

Germans were asphyxiated or burned to death.30

We know, of course, what the Nazis did to millions of people, but our moral code

condemns those actions just as it condemns the actions of the Japanese military in

Nanking. If we consider recognizing supreme emergency exceptions in our ethic of

war, we are considering permitting similar behavior in extreme circumstances as

opposed to banning it absolutely. From an impartial, utilitarian point of view, the

worry is that permitting such behavior even under the direst circumstances will

lower the bar for justifying such acts and broadcast the message that such behavior

may sometimes be justified, and thus that it will lend its weight to increasing the use

of such methods.

In order to prohibit an unwanted message of permissiveness about these types of

actions, there would have to be extremely clear criteria for when a supreme

emergency exists. This would require a clear distinction between ordinary and

extraordinary threats, something which itself may be impossible given human

partiality. What we might predict, based on facts about human partiality, is that

people will judge in the following way: things that happen to ‘‘us’’—i.e., to our

group, whoever ‘‘we’’ happen to be—are extraordinary threats while things that

happen to others—including massacre, beheadings, mass rapes, etc.—are ‘‘ordin-

ary.’’ Increased fear for oneself and people one cares about, along with heightened

concern about one’s own society and its way of life, will certainly lead to skewed

judgments and to setting lower standards to be met by one’s own group and more

stringent criteria for others. In times of high stress, it is hard to imagine the

scrupulous application of stringent criteria.

The same points apply to additional criteria that Walzer requires for justified

attacks on civilians: that the extraordinary threat be imminent, that there are no

alternative means of defense, and that there is a reasonable chance that these attacks

will succeed in averting defeat.31 We can predict that in times of great stress, fear

will make threats appear more imminent than they are; limited imagination and the

desire for vengeance will make it appear that there are no alternatives and the

29 Coady (2002, p.17). On the Japanese attacks on China, Coady cites Chang (1998).30 For a description and ethical analysis of the Allied bombing of cities in World War II, see Grayling

(2006).31 Walzer (1997, pp. 258–260).

418 S. Nathanson

123

prospects for the success of immunity-violating acts will appear to be greater than

they are.

Another important factor is that these judgments will be made by the leaders of

nations and other groups. These leaders both share the normal biases in favor of

their own country and will feel a role-based sense of special responsibility for their

group. They will be likely to err on the side of over-protecting their own group

rather than over-protecting its enemies, thus further weakening the barrier to use of

the exception.

What history shows is that leaders of nations and other groups to be extremely

fallible. If we have to rely on political leaders to judge whether the circumstances

are properly considered a supreme emergency, there is little reason to be confident

that they will get it right even if they try.32 The incentives for genuinely trying to get

it right are weaker than the incentives for thinking oneself justified in using all

available means to harm a threatening enemy that has already severely harmed

one’s own people. Nor should we overlook the huge pressures that exist for leaders

to win at any cost.

There are good reasons for thinking, then, that it would not be beneficial to

include a supreme emergency exception in a publicly known moral code. It seems

likely to be applied too permissively and would tend to cause escalated violence and

increased damage to human life. A permission to engage in such attacks exceeds the

limits of permissible partiality.

Reply to a Criticism

Before concluding, I want to reply briefly to an objection raised by Igor Primoratz

against exactly the type of argument for noncombatant immunity that I have given.

Primoratz supports noncombatant immunity but allows exceptions in cases that he

calls moral disasters.33 In his defending his view, he responds to Coady’s objection

to Walzer’s supreme emergency exception. Coady, like me, argues that adopting

this exception to noncombatant immunity ‘‘is likely to generate widespread misuse

of it’’ and concludes that ‘‘we surely do better to condemn the resort to terrorism

outright with no leeway for exemptions….’’34

Primoratz allows that this argument might have some weight but describes a

circumstance in which, he says, ‘‘its relevance may be much doubted.’’ He writes:

Think of a people facing the prospect of genocide, or of being ‘ethnically

cleansed’ from its land, and unable to put up a fight against an overwhelm-

ingly stronger enemy. Suppose we said to them: ‘‘Granted, what you are

facing is an imminent threat of a moral disaster. Granted, the only way you

stand a chance of fending off the disaster is by acting in breach of the principle

of civilian immunity and attacking enemy civilians. But you must not do that.

32 For a discussion of fallibility and poor judgment in war, see Ikle (1991).33 Primoratz explains this concept in Primoratz (2006, pp. 34–35).34 Coady (2002, p. 20).


123

For if you do, that is likely to generate widespread misuse of the exemption.’’

Could they—indeed, should they—be swayed by that?35

Although Primoratz’s final question is not answered directly, it is clear that he

assumes that the right answer is ‘‘no.’’ These people could not and should not be

swayed by this argument. For this reason, Primoratz concludes that noncombatant

immunity is ‘‘an almost absolute principle.’’ Noncombatant immunity ‘‘trump[s]

other moral considerations with which [it] may come into conflict, with one

exception: that of a (narrowly understood) moral disaster.’’36

I can only reply briefly to Primoratz. I will simply assert but not defend the view

that Primoratz’s ‘‘moral disaster’’ exception is subject to the same problems of

interpretation and over-extension as the idea of a supreme emergency. Anyone

worried about incorporating the supreme emergency exception into the public moral

code will be equally worried about the ‘‘moral disaster’’ exception.37

My main point, however, is that Primoratz’s objection is question begging. It

simply assumes and in no way proves the legitimacy of the exception. To see this,

suppose that Gert and Brandt are correct that the test of the rightness of an action is

whether it conforms to rules that are part of a publicly known moral code. And

suppose that the test for a rule’s being accepted is whether its acceptance maximizes

utility. Then, if absolute noncombatant immunity passes this test, it is the correct

moral principle, and the people described by Primoratz should not violate this

principle.

Primoratz’s assumes that the description of these people’s situation will lead his

readers to see that in this circumstance, these people have a right to defend

themselves by means that violate noncombatant immunity. But all that the case

really shows is that they would have a powerful motivation for doing anything

whatsoever to defend themselves. While the description of their plight should elicit

our sympathy, it does not prove anything. Instead, it only raises yet again the

question of which takes priority: rights of self-defense or rights of immunity to

attack.

Part of the problem is that Primoratz raises this question in a way that focuses

only on one set of victims. To elicit a fair answer to his question, Primoratz should

also describe the plight of the innocent members of the enemy group who would be

victimized by the defending group’s attacks. If we had an equally vivid sense of

their suffering, it is not so clear that we would agree that the people Primoratz

describes have a right to violate these other people’s immunity. My guess is that if

we are impartial and have comparable descriptions for both groups, we will be torn

between their competing claims and unable to say who is right.

The whole point of Brandt’s model and Gert’s method is that we cannot answer

these questions without thinking about the consequences of having a rule that

permits or forbids the kinds of attacks in question. If we focus on the individual case

35 Primoratz (2007).36 Primoratz (2007, p. 57).37 Primoratz defends the view that Palestinians have faced this type of moral disaster in Primoratz (2006,

pp. 35–38). He denies, however, that Palestinian terrorism has been morally justified, claiming that their

terrorism did not (and does not) have a reasonable chance of success.

420 S. Nathanson

123

alone, we cannot know what is right or wrong. Primoratz’s argument is rhetorically

powerful, but it presents the case in a one-sided way, focusing only on the suffering

of one group while ignoring the potential suffering of the other. It fails to show that

attacks on civilians would be justified if they are the only way for the group to ward

off the threat of a ‘‘moral disaster.’’

To put the point in a slightly different way, Primoratz asks his question from a

partialist perspective, but the problem we are dealing with arises from the clash of

different partialist interests and needs. We cannot answer this question without

reverting to some type of impartial perspective. Once we see this, it should be clear

that Primoratz’s argument is inconclusive. It makes us feel the pain of a bad

situation, but it does not tell us what is right or wrong for people to do when they are

in this situation.

Of course, if we conclude that it would be wrong for these people to defend

themselves by attacking civilians, we can still judge that the dire circumstances they

are in mitigates their blameworthiness. Defenders of absolute noncombatant

immunity can certainly sympathize with people whose desperation drives them to

act wrongly toward others. This, however, is quite different from giving up the view

that such attacks are wrong.

Conclusion

In this paper, I have tried to explore the moral scope and limits of patriotism and

other forms of partiality. I have tried to show that patriotic partiality is legitimate

and can be justified from an impartialist perspective. At the same time, we cannot

justify forms of patriotism that support unconstrained actions in war, and in fact, I

have argued that this perspective places some significant limits on what may be

done by belligerents in war.

Some may think that the moral demands I have defended are excessive. Others

may think that they are incompatible with genuine patriotism. These objections

however only seem plausible when one raises them from a strong partialist point of

view. We might say that the limits I have described are unreasonable when we view

them with our own country in mind and when we imagine our own country under

threat. However, if we view them from a perspective which asks whether we think

other people with other partialities would be justified in launching attacks on

civilians, our perspective is likely to shift. Indeed, we are often outraged by attacks

on innocent people. As I noted in discussing Pavkovic, our own partiality often

blinds us to the fact that we do not apply the same standards to ourselves and to

others. If we want to condemn terrorist groups who justify themselves from a

‘‘liberation humanist’’ point of view, then we must make sure that the form of

patriotism that we embrace is not the moral equivalent of these liberationist types of

partiality.

Acknowledgments My thanks are due to Igor Primoratz for helpful comments on a draft of this paper.


123

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