The Image before the Weapon: A Critical History of the Distinction between Combatant and Civilian.
Carpenter, Charli
The Image before the Weapon: A Critical History of the Distinction
between Combatant and Civilian, Helen M. Kinsella (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell
University Press, 2011), 264 pp., $34.95 cloth.
In the "human security" era (since approximately the end
of the cold war), a burgeoning literature in political science has
debated both the effects of the civilian immunity norm and the tensions
in the concept, ostensibly to better understand how to protect civilians
in armed conflict. Yet as Helen Kinsella rightly tells us, there has
been too little critical attention to the concept of the civilian
itself. Her sweeping historical genealogy of the "civilian"
not only debunks various myths about the concept but also exposes
certain problems and tensions that may be at the root of the current
crisis in the civilian immunity norm itself.
The Image before the Weapon makes two key contributions to
scholarship on the laws of war. The first is its stunningly
comprehensive historical breadth. Kinsella traces the concept of the
civilian from medieval times through the colonial era and up to its
eventual, gradual, and deeply politicized codification in the formal
laws of war only a few decades ago. In each epoch she demonstrates in
detail how notions of civilian immunity and their semantic and
conceptual underpinnings were connected to broader sociohistorical
processes by which diplomats, theorists, and statesmen reconceived world
orders-and by which weapons-bearers enacted these orders on civilians.
Her analysis demonstrates that, as she puts it, "the laws of war
might be best characterized as a strategic expression of morals and a
moral expression of strategies" (p. 188). This is a helpful
rearticulation of the existing consensus among even constructivist
international relations theorists of the law of war: that the law
reflects power structures even as it regulates behavior within those
structures. For Kinsella, the relevant structures include not just power
differentials between states but between categories of states, social
orders, and gender, race, and class hierarchies.
The value of Kinsella's contribution is in its depth as well
as breadth. Her discussion of the codification of humanitarian law at
the Geneva conferences in 1949 and the later revising of the law in 1977
to fit postcolonial realities is one of the best, and hers is the only
critical treatment of these events as they pertain to the concept of the
"civilian." In particular, she exposes the political causes
and consequences of the choice not to define "civilian" in the
1977 Additional Protocols. Her chapters are full of new insights even
for specialists in the area, such as her discussion of the Soviet
position on Common Article 3 of the Geneva Conventions, which provides a
minimum standard of humanitarian conduct even in conflicts not covered
by the rest of the treaties; and of the pernicious effects of the new
language on civilian immunity in the 1977 Additional Protocols, which
many at the time--including the International Committee of the Red
Cross--assumed would be a strengthened standard for civilian protection.
She also provides three new case studies on civilian protection as it
pertained to frontier warfare in the United States, the behavior of the
French in Algeria, and the civil wars of Guatemala and El Salvador. Each
expands the corpus of case studies on the topic within a field dominated
by treatments of Bosnia-Herzegovina and Rwanda, and each examines the
nexus between discourses of "civilization" and the treatment
of civilians by weapons-bearers. As a work of history, then,
Kinsella's analysis makes a substantial contribution.
As a work of international relations theory, however, The Image
before the Weapon leaves open some room for critique by scholars of
international norms. While Kinsella provides an incisive analysis of
classic texts, she avoids engaging with much recent literature on the
relationship between gender and the civilian immunity norm: indeed, she
explicitly states that "the role of gender in determining combatant
and civilian ... has thus far been overlooked in any analysis of the
laws" (p. 128). This statement overlooks some important recent
works in this area, including Judith Gardam's writings on both
noncombatant immunity and on gender; Joshua Goldstein's seminal
work, War and Gender; Jean Bethke Elshtain's and Laura
Sjoberg's feminist reinterpretations of just war theory; and the
various writings of Adam Jones, who famously raised concerns about the
conflation of "women and children" with "innocent
civilians" in a landmark Review of International Studies article. A
clearer engagement with these earlier views on the tensions between
gender and civilian status might have further elucidated and
strengthened Kinsella's own distinctive argument.
As a result, while her substantive arguments are fascinating,
Kinsella's key theoretical claim seems not wholly convincing. This
claim is distinctive and original-that discourses of gender constitute
the civilian--and is perhaps best articulated in her assertion that
"the distinction between combatant and civilian, which governs
international humanitarian law and contributes to its formative power,
is an effect of particular, historically rooted philosophical and
juridical formations of sex and sex difference" (p. 125). Yet I see
two problems with this thesis.
First, humanitarian law is not "governed" by the
distinction between combatants and civilians. In fact, the distinction
principle is designed to distinguish combatants and noncombatants--a
category that includes prisoners, wounded, and others combatants no
longer able to fight. Indeed, early humanitarian law was primarily
articulated through reference to the sick and wounded soldier, not the
civilian. Stripped of its documented association with gender
essentialisms, the humanitarian imperative is to protect those not or no
longer taking part in hostilities, not to protect gender or age groups
per se. And civilians are but one component of this category, their
constitutive feature being (like wounded soldiers) noncombatancy, not
sex or age.
Second, therefore, it is hard to accept the claim that gender
discourses are "constitutive" of the civilian, in the sense
that in their absence the concept of the civilian would lack meaning.
Indeed, there is much historical evidence to the contrary. For one
thing, the law acknowledges that women can be combatants--for example,
they are explicitly referenced as such in the 1949 treaty on Prisoners
of War. And the law does not in fact rely on "innocence" but
rather "participation" as a metric for civilian status.
Moreover, the two sets of somewhat incongruous norms--civilian immunity
and female immunity--have not always been historically linked. The
immunity norm emerged prior to its association with gender discourse and
was originally designed to protect clerics; separate rules sparing women
from massacre in antiquity were not based on innocence or
nonparticipation at all but on women's property status. These two
sets of norms indeed became fused during the Enlightenment and continue
to be muddled today in social practice, as Kinsella shows. But the
relationship between the two concepts would seem to be something other
than "mutually constitutive."
This is not to argue that there is no relationship between gender
assumptions and the notion of the civilian. Quite certainly there is, if
not in legal terms then in social interpretations of those laws, as the
scholars noted above have documented and as Kinsella's work also
shows: "women and children" often becomes a synecdoche for
"innocent civilian." But Kinsella's sweeping assertions
about this do not help us understand precisely how these different moral
claims fit together to produce certain gendered norms and behaviors in
armed conflict. This reflects a common tendency in much constructivist
international relations literature to refer broadly to any relationship
between two ideational concepts as one of "mutual
constitution." The right questions to ask are what to make of the
apparent discursive relationship between gender and the civilian and how
precisely this functions in the development, articulation, and
implementation of international humanitarian law.
In empirical terms, Kinsella is on much firmer ground with the
opposite explanatory claim: if gender does not necessarily constitute
civilian status, perhaps the civilian/combatant distinction as a
gendered discourse does help constitute certain gender hierarchies in
the modern period. As she notes, "Distinguishing among ...
individuals during war produces ... distinctions of sex and sex
difference" (p. 126). Kinsella convincingly shows that the laws of
war have helped inscribe and reproduce certain gender norms--that, in
her words, the law "produces the subjects it ostensibly
protects" (p. 190) by functioning as yet another site where women
are defined as weak, dependent, morally innocent, and physically
vulnerable. Her case study on the U.S. Civil War, for example,
demonstrates how Union respect for Southern women--indeed, their very
definition of what it meant to be a woman--was bound up in expectations
about women's civilian status and political neutrality; and her
discussion of the Geneva Conventions documents how the drafting process
rein-scribed women as presumptive civilians in the postwar and
postcolonial period.
Ultimately, Kinsella stops short of analyzing what the concept of
the "civilian" might meaningfully look like if disentangled
from the various discourses to which it is connected: gender, innocence,
civilization. Her analysis suggests, by contrast, almost a historical
inevitability to the current state of affairs. If so, this leaves
hanging an important ethical question, just as any path-breaking work of
international relations theory should do: What are the ethical and
practical consequences of destabilizing the concept of the
"innocent civilian"--which, even in its essentialized,
gendered, and inadequate guise arguably provides some protection in war
some of the time to some civilians--without simultaneously reinvesting
it with an alternative, nongendered moral foundation?
I do not know the answer, but this thoughtful book will certainly
inspire students to debate the question.
doi: 10.1017/S0892679412000809
Charli Carpenter is Associate Professor of Political Science at the
University of Massachusetts Amherst. She teaches courses on the rules of
war and is the author of "Innocent Women and Children":
Gender, Norms and the Protection of Civilians (2006).