Reasons for a Position of Pacifism
In what follows we want to try to present the reasons for a “pacifist” position. Some of them are based on objective human considerations; others have their origin in ultimate Christian motivations. In our opinion these reasons have a right to serious consideration on the part of a really Christian conscience. Whether they move such a conscience to a concrete decision for this position or whether it decides on the basis of human and Christian motivation for the opposite course of action is something that can be decided only in the suprarational way that has been indicated above.
Rational-Humane Objection
It is our deliberate intention to present the rational-humane objection to nuclear armament in question form because we do not want to convey the impression that our argumentation is necessarily beyond all doubt. The reader who here expects fully worked out theses and answers instead of questions should also be aware that problem areas are being addressed on whose answer the survival of entire nations depends. We should not like to conceal from ourselves or others by the use of clever rhetoric the necessity of the utmost efforts of reflection or the fact that answers supported by a consensus have not yet been found.
First of all, we consider the distinction between nuclear armament and nuclear war as something that ultimately can seriously be called into question as far as real life is concerned. Do those who consider this distinction to be viable in practice allow in a sufficiently realistic way, even on their own side, for the malevolence, the craving for power, the misinterpretation of social realities as the Christian conviction of human sinfulness compels us to do? Will such nuclear armament not lead to a destruction of social equilibrium and of peace even among us, so that there will be an ever-increasing temptation (as history teaches us) to overcome the internal problems of society by waging external wars? Can this armament really be justified except by attributing to political adversaries from the outset only the bad motives of an absolute addiction to power and the will to assault their opponents? Why is it that in these controversies the adversaries always depict one another in the most diabolical light, unless this shabby and poor argumentation were necessary to justify armament?
If from the bottom of their hearts people place their hope exclusively on nuclear armament and summarily reject as unrealistic all attempts to develop conceptions for securing peace in which the use of weapons of mass destruction as an option for human action is rejected in principle, they are tacitly presuming that on the other side, and not only on the part of individuals but also of nations, at least among the power elites, they would have to expect as a matter of principle that the basest instincts, only the other side’s aggressiveness and its urge to destroy, will as a rule prevail. This is just the way to foster the mental climate in which aggressiveness leading precisely to nuclear wars will thrive, a mentality which does not really consider a nuclear war to be basically immoral but endeavors to avoid it only as long as there is no chance of waging it victoriously in its own interest. It is of course true that Christians may not assume in guileless idealism that the others are not also sinners. This is why many Christians justify nuclear armament precisely with the argument that only in this way can adversaries be made to understand “that the effort required for an attack or a blackmail attempt does not correspond in any way to the advantages they might gain from it and therefore that it does not seem advisable.”
But if we are convinced that this legitimate right may be defended by a constant readiness for total war and that it can be defended in this way, do we not run the risk of claiming every right for ourselves while in fact ascribing total blame to the opposite side? Yet as Christians we ought to be far more afraid of the enticements and temptations to evil on our own side, a fear that is singularly absent in the current widespread mentality. It is precisely for this reason that we should also fear nuclear armament on our own side as a temptation to a nuclear war that threatens to annihilate the human race, even though it was originally intended only as a means of deterrence.
Does not nuclear armament tacitly foster the conviction that we have to advance the welfare of our own nation instead of considering from the outset the well-being of the whole family of nations? Does it make sense for us to say that we must continue to increase our nuclear armaments so that we can later bring about a situation in which we can seriously and successfully negotiate a really effective disarmament? Will this not result in a permanent postponement of such a situation, because the adversary will take immediate steps to catch up with us and the stalemate will remain, only this time worse, that we wanted to overcome in order to have more successful negotiations, and in which we are forever wrangling about the meaning of advance armament and subsequent armament?
Can anyone prove that nuclear armament really prevents the frightful chaos that we are all afraid of? Are those who are for nuclear armament for the purpose of preventing a nuclear war entirely sure that they really reject this war under any and all circumstances? To make this deterrence policy “credible,” they at least have to pretend to the adversary that they are willing to embark on nuclear war, and this means that they have to dupe at least their own soldiers into believing that such a war is justified when they equip them with nuclear weapons, all the while taking pains to avoid any public discussion of the matter.
Does this not inevitably produce a frame of mind that views geographically limited nuclear wars as a real option under certain circumstances and feels that it is possible to wage such wars? Are we fully aware that the development of new and more effective nuclear weapons can be a temptation for one side to take immediate advantage of its presumably superior position in order to forestall the adversary to whom we undoubtedly impute bellicose intentions? And in this process it is obvious that the possibilities afforded by the rapidly increasing development in the field of microelectronics increase the temptation to develop first-strike technologies and even to make use of them as soon as we think that a first-strike can be successfully carried out, even without our ascribing to the present-day political leadership of a country the intention of unleashing a first strike. With this kind of armament can we really have a guarantee that a nuclear war will not break out due to technical defects and miscalculation, even though it is not fully intended? Even if we could rely on technical fail-safe measures (experts doubt this possibility), has the adversaries’ increasing fear of one another in an escalating arms race been assessed with sufficient realism, a fear that can lead to the outbreak of a total war even though neither side has actually entertained an aggressive intention?
We doubt that many of the proponents of further armament, who are convinced of their own sense of realism, are even sufficiently aware of their own fear and the fear of others. And we further doubt that this fear can be kept subject to political control in the long run. In addition to this the fixation that the tendency to this kind of armament gives rise to must necessarily lead to a neglect of the other tasks within the family of nations. Will not this preoccupation itself turn into a temptation to settle the unresolved conflicts within this family of nations by recourse to wars? In the long run, what effective means do we propose to prevent nuclear armament on the part of an ever-increasing number of countries? And finally, does not the continuation of nuclear armament lead to the loss of our possibility of preserving and developing those very values and goals whose defense we consider today to be the reason for nuclear deterrence?
The questions brought up here describe the magnitude of the danger with which nuclear armament is threatening us. Hence it is our wish that those who defend further nuclear armament under definite conditions would not present their arguments in such a way as to give the impression that they must appear as immediately evident to all persons of intelligence and good will.
When, for example, the Central Committee of German Catholics declares without a trace of scruple that the NATO double-track decision is an example of a policy that has as its aim the reduction of armaments, détente, and peace by providing a balance of military power, far be it from us to call into question the upright intentions of the Central Committee or of NATO. However, it would be advisable to temper this assertion with a bit of skepticism which would allow for a more open-minded evaluation of the different views current even on the side of the West concerning the criteria to be employed in judging the other side’s willingness for détente and peace, and concerning the nature and the extent of the armaments that are required. In view of the way that the Central Committee formulates its case, can there be any room left to agree with Cardinal Höffner’s declaration that Christians of equal conscientiousness can arrive at different decisions about how to secure peace?
When expressing judgments of our own about how peace is to be secured, our formulations should make it clear that we acknowledge equal conscientiousness on the part of Christians who have come to an opposite judgment. Beyond this it will hardly be possible to demonstrate which side possesses the greater intelligence and expertise, because an analysis of this kind and the results it yields will still encounter the same differences of opinion.
The Message of God’s Kingdom
For those of us who are trying to be Christians there is a further horizon that impels us to oppose nuclear armament. It would be well both for our partners and our adversaries to pay close heed to the arguments that originate from this horizon too. The message of the cross, the resurrection, and the advent of God’s kingdom moves on a level that is different from the level of ordinary moral activity. In their private as well as their public lives Christians have to deal not only with “commandments” and “norms” which they acknowledge as reasonable and justified and which they can make clear to a certain degree even to non-Christians. They are also aware of other criteria and motivations, “appeals” and “calls” through which God makes particularly urgent demands on them. This means that their decisions will be formed on a totally different horizon. What takes place on this level is described by Scripture with the words, “He that can take it, let him take it.”
When called upon to make decisions involving the whole of their being, non-Christians also find themselves propelled by a force which likewise bursts the bonds of the reality that is subject to rational analysis. Even though the reasons they give for it are different, both Christians and non-Christians can come to the same decision of conscience, one for which neither they themselves nor others can give a completely adequate rational explanation. When this happens, Christians will rejoice in the knowledge that their own decision is being confirmed from another quarter. Just as they hope for themselves that God’s grace is at work in their own decision, so, too, they quite naturally see this same grace at work in their non-Christian contemporaries drawing them, too, beyond the bounds of objective knowledge.
In their decisions Christians and non-Christians alike must adhere to their conscience. Both, however, must also be cautious in assessing their own motivation because the ultimate and real wellsprings of the motivation from which their decisions actually flow themselves defy transparent reflexive analysis. Christians are of the belief that they must leave it to God to pass judgment on what their real motivation is. In this world there is no final word about themselves or others.
The decision of Christians must ultimately be made before the cross of Christ. This is their salvation; this is where the true meaning of their existence shines forth in clear light. But, as Saint Paul says, it is in the cross that God is victorious through the powerlessness and folly of him who dies upon it, even though he was unshakably convinced that with him God’s kingdom had come. Christians’ decisions must conform to the proclamation of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount. They must accept the folly of the cross which lays claim to Christians as their true wisdom. Saint Paul says that the foolishness of God is wiser than the wisdom of human beings, that what is lowly and rejected has been chosen by God that no flesh may glory in his sight and that the Scripture might be fulfilled which says that God’s strength fulfills itself in weakness. This sentence sounds unworldly, indeed even pathetic and silly to those who wish to make God an immanent element of human history whose job it is to see to it that this history can always be understood and calculated and be brought to an outcome satisfactory to us. However, our reliance is not on a God who blesses weapons and guarantees success in this world. We try to believe in the incomprehensible God to whom we entrust ourselves precisely in view of the folly of the cross.
The horizon on which Christians have to make their decisions and which we have not described with anything even remotely approaching the full treatment it deserves is valid, of course, not only for the conduct of private life. The Sermon on the Mount has political significance too. It is also a touchstone for public activity. It may not simply be relegated to the private sphere because it is the constitution of God’s kingdom, and this kingdom extends to the peoples of the earth and is striving to manifest itself in concrete history. To be sure, the particular, objective individual norms governing public life and politics are different from those of the personal and private sphere and those used to shape the lifestyle of individuals for the simple reason that the realities that these norms are meant to regulate are different. When the plain and simple business of living obviously requires a definite way of acting, no one will hesitate to agree that there is no need whatever to appeal to the Sermon on the Mount and one can refrain from invoking the folly of the cross.
Anyone who is considering the construction of a bridge even as a form of moral achievement certainly need not bother about a blueprint that contradicts the most elementary rules of statics. But when we are dealing with questions of what it means to be a human being in the fullest sense of the term, with questions of a complexity that is beyond measure and that defies total analysis, with questions that do not admit of a universally accepted solution through the application of immediately evident objective norms, Christians have the right and the duty to appeal to the Sermon on the Mount and to make their decisions under the cross, under its folly and its powerlessness. Christian politicians must also make their decisions on this horizon. They are not permitted to be merely representatives of a lifestyle which in its understandable bourgeois character is first and foremost in possessione. Christianity is, after all, not a preservative, to be used as sparingly as possible, for the purpose of safeguarding a humane, rational, bourgeois lifestyle from excesses that also threaten it. However much the bearers of political power in a democratic society depend on the voters for their mandate and have to submit their power to the controls of constitutionally established institutions and not least of all to the cross fire of public opinion, they nonetheless still may not pass off their personal responsibility to others for what they do or fail to do.
The question of a truly Christian moral theology, precisely how the ethos of the Sermon on the Mount is to be interpreted, how its “appeals” and “calls” can be validated in the political arena, has of course not been answered in a complete and precise way in the few indications we have given here. What concrete chances the Sermon on the Mount actually has of becoming an element that helps to determine history and politics is of course also an open question. It is sufficient here to avow that for Christians the Sermon on the Mount does have a part to play in political decision-making. Even our secular and political life will go astray if we fail to take into account the folly of the cross and the hope of eternal life in God.
If we now put the question of nuclear armament in this framework of the Christian horizon of decision and of specific Christian motivation, our conviction is that we must say no to nuclear armament. If precisely on the question of war and peace in the nuclear age, on such a radical and comprehensive question, we disallow this horizon of decision, how could we possibly continue to convince ourselves that the Sermon on the Mount and the folly of the cross still have a really radical meaning in our lives? If someone should reproach us with the fact that the principles of the Sermon on the Mount and of the folly of the cross are not otherwise tangibly evident in our lives either, we could still not accept this as a reason for not letting them have an effect in the question of nuclear armament.
EDITORIAL NOTE: This essay, written in 1982, was co-authored by Rahner's nephew Thomas Cremer. It is an excerpt from Karl Rahner: Spiritual Theology (Paulist Press, 2025). All rights reserved.
