FLC206, Military Intervention in Libya -
The Errors of Muscular Libertarianism, Sean Gabb, 22nd March 2011
Free Life Commentary,
A Personal View from
The Director of the Libertarian Alliance
Issue Number 206
22nd March 2011
Everything I thought relevant about our latest war in the Moslem world I said in a blog posting a few
days ago. However, I have been asked to write at greater length. If I do not choose to begin again on
the reams of commentary that I made on our earlier war in Iraq, I suppose I should say something
about Libya.
Looking at the immediate issues, I am against intervention. It is none of our business what goes on
in the Moslem world. Even if it were, there is no good that we are nowadays capable of doing there.
I doubt if air strikes alone will prevent Colonel Gaddafi or his enemies from killing ordinary people.
The logic of the intervention we have made may draw us into some kind of land attack – followed by
some kind of occupation. And everyone ought by now to understand the likeliest outcome of
military occupations in the Moslem world. Even if he is brought down with the help we are so far
providing, I do not believe that whatever follows Colonel Gaddafi will be much better on the whole
than he has been, or that it will be any more friendly to us. The most charitable view to be taken
of the British and American Governments is that they are run by fools whose memory does not
reach back even to 2003. The most sensible view is that military action is being taken for the
benefit of special interest groups that cannot stand openly forward without bringing both
governments down into scandal and contempt.
That is my view of the war. Of course, it is possible that, this time, I and the trend within
libertarianism to which I belong are mistaken as to facts. Perhaps this time, limited intervention
will bring down a tyrant, and he will be followed by a stable and reasonably liberal democracy in
Libya. I do not for a moment suppose that this will happen – or is actually desired by whoever is
giving the orders. But let me assume that this is a possibility, and then take issue with a rival
libertarian trend that asserts our right, and even our duty, to beat down tyranny wherever we can,
and to raise up such constitutional government as the people there are able to support.
The main problem – specific facts aside – with this kind of assertion is the talk of “we” and “us”.
Such talk made reasonable sense in the ancient democracies. When a treaty was made between
Athens and Corcyra, for example, the Athenian ambassadors signed fully on behalf of the people of
Athens. All policy was debated at meetings that every adult male citizen had the right to attend.
Even allowing for slavery, probably the majority of those who paid taxes were able to speak and
vote on the weight and the use of the tax money. Certainly, everyone who might be called on to
do military or naval service could speak and vote. Moreover, every effective office of state was
filled either by direct election, for short periods and with the real possibility of impeachment,
or by lot for short periods, so that the people as a whole, in every generation, would have a share
n government. Obviously, there were always dissenters from whatever the majority decided.
But, when the ancient historians say that “the Athenians” did this or that, they were making
sense.
But neither England nor America is a democracy of this kind. In both countries, there is a much
greater separation of state and people. To take the example of my own country, the British State
comprises the Queen-in-Parliament, plus a mass of employed officials who themselves outnumber
the whole population of ancient Athens; and it is influenced by a further cluster of usually corporate
interests. Whether this machine is directed by six hundred or so elected representatives is beside
the point – though it generally is not directed by them. These representatives are themselves
members of a class separate from the people who choose between them every four or five years.
To speak of actions taken by the British State as taken by “us” is a plain error. One of the reasons
we moderns pay so much attention to constitutional safeguards is because we need them in ways
that the Athenians mostly did not. We need them because we face a State that is separate from us,
and that has interests that are often hostile to our own. We are not entirely helpless as we stand
before the State. Elections aside, we are lucky enough to live in a country that still has a broadly
liberal political culture, and where most organs of the State are directed by men willing to act with
a certain restraint. But this does not mean that there is any specific identity between the interests
of State and people, or that we should put too much meaning into the verbal convention that “we”
went to war in Iraq, or that “we” must do something to help the people of Libya.
Because, for any number of reasons, we do not and cannot control the State, the best we can do
is to keep insisting that those who direct the State should be guided by certain principles. The main
principle is that they should not regard themselves in any sense as our parents, nor as our agents.
They should regard themselves, rather, as our trustees.
Now, the duty of a trustee is to act in what any reasonable man might regard as the best interests
of the beneficiaries. He should not use things for his own purposes that are not really his property.
He should not simply take instructions from the beneficiaries. He should act with prudence and with
restraint.
If we apply this principle to foreign policy, we see that all actions here should never go beyond a very
cautious selfishness. The State has no money of its own. The rulers of the State do not nowadays do
any fighting. In all cases, it is the people who pay and the people who fight. It is, therefore, not enough f
or David Cameron and William Hague to speak about the sufferings of the Libyan people. If they were to
resign their offices and go off to fight, as many Englishmen did, in the Spanish Civil War, that would be
their business. It is not their business to spend our money and our lives on their crusade – and not even
if they could find a temporary majority for doing so in a referendum. Their duty, as trustees, is to take
such minimal actions as will safeguard this country from invasion. This might sometimes require them to
go a little further. They might, for example, be required to intervene in an Irish civil war. They might also
be required to gain and exercise a benevolent hegemony over countries like Holland and Belgium, and
actively to conciliate the French and Germans. But, just as a trustee is not permitted to sell or mortgage
assets to feed the starving in Africa or fund research into a cure for aids, the rulers of this country have no
business to run about the world, involving us in foreign matters that we do not fully understand and cannot
efficiently control.
There is a general benefit to behaving in this manner. When the governments of the main countries act
purely in the reasonable interests of their peoples, foreign policies taken on a caution and predictability
that is most consistent with enabling a peaceful intercourse between nations. Wars come about most
often not from national selfishness, but from impulsive and unpredictable acts in furtherance of some
abstract principle. And I say again that such principles will generally be a cover for the enrichment
of some shameful special interest.
There is a fundamental difference, then, between a man who takes sides in some foreign dispute and
goes out to act on his decision, and a State that intervenes in foreign disputes. There is also a fundamenta
l difference between a man who acts by himself and a man who calls for a State to act on his behalf.
This is my view of how the British State should respond to events in Libya and the rest of the world.
It would be my view even if I could be shown a record of success in the spreading of liberal democracy
through the world. But there is no such record. The people who are now calling for “humanitarian”
intervention in Libya are often the same people who called for the same in the Balkans. We bombed.
We occupied. We are still occupying. The mountains of dead Albanians we read about in the
newspapers were never found. Instead, the alleged aggressors suffered ethnic cleansing and
what might fall within the legal definition of genocide. And Kossovo is now a gangster state that
has exported criminals to every country in Europe. The same people told us that Saddam Hussein
was feeding his enemies into plastic shredders, and had – or soon might have – “weapons of mass
destruction”. So we invaded. Seven years later, perhaps a million Iraqis are dead. Iraqi Christians are
persecuted as they never were under Saddam Hussein. Water and electricity have still not been
restored in many areas of the country. Instead, below a thin veneer of constitutional rule paid for
by the Americans, the country is a patchwork of jurisdictions based on tribe or religion, and hardly
anyone is better off. Of course, none of the alleged weapons was ever found. Leave aside my own
preference for how the British State should generally conduct itself – is it likely to be any better in
Libya?
"The Fuhrer had spent twenty two hours in Prague to inspect his latest conquest. During this time, the people of that city had barely been aware of his presence in the Castle. But as the Mercedes accelerated to carry him back to the railway station, one of the armoured cars forming his guard got stuck in the tramlines that lay just beyond the Wenzelsplatz. The Fuhrer’s car swerved to avoid this. On the frozen cobblestones…." Hitler is dead. No Second World War. No takeover of England by the Left in 1940. No descent into the gutter. It is now March 1959. England is still England. The Queen is on her throne. The pound is worth a pound. All is right with the world – or with that quarter of it lucky enough to repose under an English heaven. Rejoicing in this happy state of affairs, Anthony Markham takes his leave of a nightmarish, totalitarian America ruled by Harry J. Anslinger, where smoking is illegal and Ayn Rand is in a concentration camp. He has a biography to write of a dead and now largely forgotten Winston Churchill, and has had to travel to where the old drunk left his papers. But little does Markham realise, as he returns to his safe, orderly England, that he carries, somewhere in his luggage, an object that can be used to destroy England and the whole structure of bourgeoiscivilisation as it has been gradually restored since 1918. Who is trying to kill Anthony Markham? For whom is Major Stanhope really working? Where did Dr Pakeshi get his bag of money? What connection might there be between Michael Foot, Leader of the British Communist Party, and Foreign Secretary Harold Macmillan? Where does noch Powell fit into the story? Above all, what is the Churchill Memorandum? What terrible secrets does it contain? All will be revealed – but not till after Markham has gone on the run through an England unbombed, uncentralised, still free, and still mysterious. The Churchill Memorandum can be read as a thriller, as a black comedy, as a satire on political correctness, or on the present Wikileaks scandal. It may also warm the hearts of anyone who suspects that the Pax Americana has been less than a blessing for mankind, and that what civilisation we still enjoy is threatened most by those who rule in Washington. The first libertarian novel of 2011, available now: |

















Comments
Re: Non-Intervention
John Stuart Mill put it like this, in "A Few Words on Non-Intervention": that complete
non-intervention amounts to the miserable proposition that the wrong can support the wrong,
but the right cannot support the right. Intervention to enforce non-intervention is always morally
justifiable, if not always prudent.
Tony
Wars and politicians
The awful thing is, politicians all want a war because they are under the impression that it
will mean they get votes come the next election.
The awful thing that I mentioned above is that, on the whole, they do get more votes when
they get into a war. Although Blair's name is mud, at the time he was thought of as a hero.
What does this say for the general British public?
Ampers.