THROUGHOUT CENTURIES OF conflict, ethicists have struggled to determine when a war may truly be said to be just. Occasionally, one occurs whose circumstances leave little room for argument. Such is the international intervention in Afghanistan, on behalf of that troubled country’s government—sanctioned by the United Nations organization, undertaken by NATO and fully supported by Canada.
We all know the story. Nearly fifteen years ago, the Taliban regime seized power in Kabul and imposed its reign of horror upon a nation already wearied by many years of war. The regime brutalized Afghan society. Men were forced to conform to the arbitrary dictates of often-illiterate religious leaders. Women were deprived of all rights as human beings. Few children received even a basic education. And in stadiums where once people played soccer, summary public executions—often for modest offences—became a frequent occurrence. It was a detestable and nihilistic regime, dedicated only to destruction—of art, of anything Afghans took pleasure in, of any hint of personal choice that deviated from its own narrow strictures, of human life itself.
Hidden away in the remote mountain fastnesses of Asia, east of Iran and north of Pakistan, the Taliban might nevertheless have stumbled along for years, but for its leadership’s fatal alliance with al Qaeda. However, by making common cause with Islamist terrorists determined to take their self-declared jihad to the West, the Taliban transformed itself into a present danger to the international community. It sheltered the al Qaeda organization, even as al Qaeda planned and perpetrated multiple outrages against Western interests abroad over a period of several years.
Then, on September 11, 2001, terrorists used hijacked airliners to destroy New York’s World Trade Center and to attack the Pentagon. A total of 2,976 people died that day in the two attacks and in the related crash of Flight 93. Among the casualties were twenty-five Canadians. These actions were conceived and planned in Afghanistan.
The Taliban could no longer be ignored: the justice of the world’s prompt and vigorous intervention in the Taliban homeland in response to the 9/11 provocation was, and remains, unassailable.
International law blesses self-defence. The moral tenets of every major religion endorse it. Common sense demands that when attacked, we remove the threat. And, even had time raised doubts, the lessons of the campaign would have settled them.
What we have now learned through fighting the Taliban revealed how deep was the chasm between our world views. There is a fundamental difference between Canada and our allies, and those we fight. The Western world view cherishes life and, however imperfectly, ascribes value to individuals.
Not so, this enemy.
This has been a widely reported war. However, there are valuable additional insights to be gathered from these writings of Dr. Ray Wiss. A Sudbury doctor who rejoined the army as an officer in early middle age specifically to serve on the front line in Afghanistan, he reveals through his vivid descriptions a layer of detail about the character of the enemy that horrifies, even as it informs.
It is not news, of course, that the Taliban place little value upon human life, although Dr. Wiss’s description of their specific atrocities is no less chilling for being carefully understated. It is in the more mundane cruelty, however, that the mist clears on the chasm that separates us. Wiss writes, for instance, of a teenager who dies, despite all that he could do, from injuries inflicted by a Taliban explosive—an event of a type “so common as to be barely worth mentioning.” And of a young boy whose broken leg becomes a lifelong impairment because, to the Taliban, taking him to a hospital would be an act of collaboration with the government.
It is true that there are accidents in war, but these were not accidents. Wiss expresses it with clarity: “[W]hen Afghan civilians are hurt by Coalition weapons, it is because we screwed up. When they are hurt by Taliban weapons, it is a direct and predictable result of intentional Taliban tactics.”
Canadian doctors—like Ray Wiss—treat even the enemy. Canadian soldiers strive to protect Afghans, even at great personal risk. And Canadians, and their allies, provide the conditions under which reconstruction projects—such as the Dahla Dam, which I visited in May 2009—are able to be developed.
Thanks to Ray, we have the chance to understand what Canadian troops experience on Afghanistan’s front lines, and why what they’re doing is worth it. Canadians should be very proud of our men and women in uniform, and of the extraordinary job that they are doing.
Importantly, he also reminds us of something we should never forget: yes, this is a just war.
Above all, it is also a war that we are fighting justly.
It is the Canadian way.
Just as with his previous book, FOB Doc, all royalties go to support the Military Families Fund, established by General Rick Hillier to assist the families of our service people.
I am delighted to provide this foreword.
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE STEPHEN HARPER, M.P., P.C.
Prime Minister of Canada