Aleksandar Jokic

International law makes it explicit that states shall not intervene militarily or otherwise in the affairs of other states; it is a central principle of the charter of the United Nations. But international law also provides an exception; when a conflict within a state poses a threat to international peace, military intervention by the UN may be warranted. (Indeed, the UN Charter provides for an international police force, though nothing has ever come of this provision). The Charter and other UN documents also assert that human rights are to be protected—but in the past the responsibility for the protection of human rights has for the most part been allowed to rest on the government of the state where the violation of rights occurs. Not surprisingly in this context, the question of what protection (if any) should be provided by the UN or otherwise to individuals when their human rights are violated by their governments or with the complicity of their governments remains a contentious issue. Should the principle of respect for state sovereignty trump the principle of respect for human rights? Historically it has been allowed to do so, but recently it has been more and more widely argued that when states fail to respect the human rights of their citizens (or of others who reside within their boundaries), they may be held accountable for their actions. Is military humanitarian intervention justifiable? And if so, under what circumstances? Those are the questions addressed in this collection of essays. The focus of the volume is on the abstract principles involved; though reference is sometimes made to specific cases, the essays here consist primarily of philosophical reflection on the abstract issues. (A companion volume on the specific issues surrounding a particular case, Lessons of Kosovo, is being published simultaneously.)

The paper explores how language underscores our appreciation forinternational activism. An account of the tension between activismand international activism, especially in the context of thedeclarative and ``true'' character of the terms is offered. Thisis achieved through examining ``word games'' pertaining to theBalkan crisis with such expressions as ``democratic revolution'',``Serbian nationalism'', ``revenge killing'', and ``reverse ethniccleansing.'' The analysis points to a non-descriptive attitudinalcharacter of such phrases. Consequently, two defensive strategiesare suggested for international activists. First, they should getinformed on the history of the region as much as possible, becomingavid students of recent and more historically removed events ofimportance. And second, they must make sure they do not fall preyto the on-going word games that can obscure their overall goal andpurpose. Hence, the need to develop a proper ethics of internationalactivism, which we would be unable to do if we were to ignoremassive opportunity for manipulation residing in the attitude thathumanitarian workers are modern day saints. International law,whatever its final shape, must also take into account findingsdetailed here. All of this is linked to (international) activismand the double-edged sword it embodies: peace initiatives yetforeign invasions.

Yugoslavia existed as a country for several decades. Competing explanatory narratives as to why and how this state ceased to exist—labeled “the self-destruction of Yugoslavia” and “the Hegemon did it”—are contrasted, and connected to two related viewpoints on the question “What role did international law play in the process of dismantling Yugoslavia?”: “reformist optimism” and “traditionalist realism”. It is argued that the former position leads not only to the marginalization of state sovereignty, but also impunitism, genocidalism, humanrightism, and most alarmingly to the decriminalization of aggression. A brief review of essay contributions to this special issue on “Yugoslavia Dismantled and International Law” offers a further argument in favor of traditionalist realism as the preferred postion to take regarding the current state of international relations and international law. In this regard, the case of Yugoslavia is extremely instructive.

To ignore evil is to cause it to cease to exist, thought the ancients, and so, perhaps, think those who accuse former leaders of now dismembered countries, no longer in existence, of war crimes, and who would prevent those they accuse of raising the aggression which was committed against their country. Can the evil of aggression be willed out of existence if it goes unmentioned, and if international ad hoc bodies do not consider it a crime within their jurisdiction? And if the defendant is gagged, if judgments permit him to be removed from the courtroom altogether, will we be free from having to see and hear the evil he persistently identifies, and for which he points out there will be no justice? The Milosevic trial has been underreported to the point where “speaking evil” – that is, expressing criticism of the persistent procedural irregularities that have plagued the proceedings, and indeed the outright erosion of fair trial rights (heralded as “progress” in some quarters) – has become a demanding exercise. It is one we attempt here.

In this article we focus on the true nature of a disparity asserted in Leo Strauss's discussion of Machiavelli to amount to a virtue battle of sorts between Athens and Jerusalem. To convey this conflict Strauss is drawing both on his once Talmudic scholarship and his expertise in the history of political philosophy. We explore the stunning distortions, both theological and philosophical, in Strauss's discussion that appears aimed to support a conservative position on leadership, which calls for the magnanimous few to exercise power over the many (the lowborn, the poor and the vulgar). Not only does Strauss distort the interpretation of the Torah with respect to Isaiah, but he also does the same for the whole sequence of important figures in the history of philosophy: Kant, Marx, Spinoza, the Sophists, and Socrates. In the end we put in question whether there really is a meaningful contrast to be drawn between Athens and Jerusalem, and we suggest that the entire exercise by Strauss in his essay on Machiavelli is mostly an opportunity to espouse some extremist, or hard line Nietzschean views.

Consciousness is perhaps the most puzzling problem we humans face in trying to understand ourselves. It has been the subject of intense study for several decades, but, despite substantial progress, the most difficult problems have still not reached any generally agreed solution. Future research can start with this book. Eighteen original, specially written essays offer new angles on the subject. The contributors, who include many of the leading figures in philosophy of mind, discuss such central topics as intentionality, phenomenal content, knowledge of mental states, consciousness and the brain, and the relevance of quantum mechanics to the study of consciousness.

This is an attempt to develop a more complete understanding of ``genocidalism of commission,'' or the genocidal use of ``genocide,'' defined stipulatively as ``the energetic attributions of ``genocide'' in less than clear cases without considering available and convincing opposing evidence and argumentation.'' Genocidalism is a widespread phenomenon regarding the discourse on international affairs in the advanced, liberal societies of the West, embedding a ``normative divide'' between the ways of attending to domestic (national) concerns and ways of attending to international issues. I argue that genocidalism is morally wrong, explore its likely causes, and suggest possible ways of getting rid of this hateful practice.

Having followed the literature on genocide since the beginning of 1990s I have been often struck that academic writing on genocide is very much like non-professional pursuits in youth sports: anything is considered 'a good try'. The French have a good phrase for what I mean here: n'importe quoi. Works exhibiting no sound methodology, replete with irrational claims without factual basis and beliefs about foreigners adopted on faith limited only by a 'the worse the better' criterion of plausibility dominate the literature on genocide. My only consolation in confronting this literature has been that philosophers, for the most part, had not been the ones taking part in this orgy of nonsense. The book Genocide and Human Rights takes even that solace away as it purports to be 'a philosophical guide' to genocide.

In the debate between those who hold the tensed theory and those who hold the tenseless theory of time, Arthur Prior’s famous “Thank Goodness Argument” has had a special place. Initially designed to help tensers, it has seen its fortune change many times. In this paper the focus is on a methodological aspect of the argument. The purpose is to defend the “new reading” of the argument, which is intended to resolve an ontological issue by focusing on an epistemic fact, against a recent charge by Nathan Oaklander that such an argument can be valid only if it is trivial, i.e., if “ceases to exist” contained in one of the premises had been already understood in the tensed sense. However, whether the argument is trivial or not depends also on whether the tensed reading is directly invoked or obtained only through the substitution of an extensional equivalent whose truth is not based on the presupposed truth of the tensed account. A possible extensional equivalent needed for the intended substitution is offered. It is based on the concept of in-the-world-inherent-modalities.

A step towards constructing an ethics of international activism is proposed by formulating a series of constraints on what would constitute morally permissible agency in the context that involves delivering services abroad, directly or indirectly. Perhaps surprisingly, in this effort the author makes use of the concept of ‘force multiplier’. This idea and its official applications have explanatory importance in considering the correlation between the post-Cold War phenomenal growth in the number of international non-governmental organizations and the emergence of the US as the sole, unchallenged superpower. Four moral constraints useful for morally assessing international activism are formulated and defended. The final outcome is an argument in favor of an overarching duty for any activist-minded Westerner to go local, while developing nations are urged to closely regulate, even criminalize, activities by international activists and ‘human rights organizations’ on their territory when not in solidarity or in support of local movements. The position defended, urging the normative primacy of local over international activism, also finds support in Immanuel Kant’s Third Definitive Article for A Perpetual Peace.

In this century technology, production, and their consequent environmental impact have advanced to the point where unrectifiable and uncontroIlable global imbalances may emerge. Hence, decisions made by existing human beings are capable of dramaticaIly affecting the welfare of future generations. Current controversy about environmental protection involves the question of whether our present obligations to future generations can be grounded in their present rights. Many philosophers would question the very intelligibility of the idea that future individuals might have present rights. They do not see how a non-existing object could be said to have anything, let alone rights. Others see no obstacle to attributing properties to such objects. Thus, the controversy about the rights of future individuals shifted to a different, that is, ontological level. What is the proper method for resolving conflicts on this “deeper” level? This essay has two inter-dependent goals: (1) to suggest and assess a testing procedure for ontological claims, through the use of an example of conflicting ontological theses; and (2) to illuminate the concept of a right, through a discussion of the most general features of the requirements for the possible possession of rights.

International law makes it explicit that states shall not intervene militarily or otherwise in the affairs of other states; it is a central principle of the charter of the United Nations. But international law also provides an exception; when a conflict within a state poses a threat to international peace, military intervention by the UN may be warranted. (Indeed, the UN Charter provides for an international police force, though nothing has ever come of this provision). The Charter and other UN documents also assert that human rights are to be protected — but in the past the responsibility for the protection of human rights has for the most part been allowed to rest on the government of the state where the violation of rights occurs. Not surprisingly in this context, the question of what protection (if any) should be provided by the UN or otherwise to individuals when their human rights are violated by their governments or with the complicity of their governments remains a contentious issue. Should the principle of respect for state sovereignty trump the principle of respect for human rights? Historically it has been allowed to do so, but recently it has been more and more widely argued that when states fail to respect the human rights of their citizens (or of others who reside within their boundaries), they may be held accountable for their actions. Is military humanitarian intervention justifiable? And if so, under what circumstances? Those are the questions addressed in this collection of essays. The focus of the volume is on the abstract principles involved; though reference is sometimes made to specific cases, the essays here consist primarily of philosophical reflection on the abstract issues. (A companion volume on the specific issues surrounding a particular case, Lessons of Kosovo, is being published simultaneously.)

Economic sanctions are envisaged as a sort of punishment, based on what should be an institutional decision not unlike a court ruling. Hence, the conditions for their lifting should be clearly stated and once those are met sanctions should be lifted. But this is generally not what happens, and perhaps is precluded by the very nature of international sanctioning. Sanctions clearly have political, economic, military and strategic consequences, but the question raised here is whether sanctions can also have moral justification. Illustrated by the example of international sanctions against Yugoslavia, the authors show how the process of escalating demands on a target country, inherent to the very process of sanctioning, can lead ultimately even to overt aggression. As a result of this logic of escalation, economic sanctions cannot be articulated properly in any law-like system. Economic sanctions have much more in common with war than legal punishment, and in fact represent a form of siege. As such, they cannot be ended simply on the basis of their initial rationale, for the very process of sanctions implementation opens up possibilities for setting new goals and a continuous redefinition of the goal that sanctions are seen to have.