Using Shakespeare's Henry
V to Teach Just-War Principles
Dr. David L. Perry
Professor of Ethics, U.S. Army War College
Presented at the International Studies Association, Portland, OR, 28 February 2003,
when the author was Lecturer in Philosophy and Religious Studies at Santa Clara
University.
Most of us assume that we have a basic right not to be killed. We might not consider
that to be an absolute right-since that would entail strict pacifism-but rather what
philosophers call a prima facie right. For example, we might be said to
forfeit our right not to be killed if we commit a particularly heinous crime like
aggravated murder. Or we might waive that right if we suffer from a terminal illness
and can't end our own life without assistance from others. And any right that can be
forfeited or waived cannot be absolute. But we're certainly on solid ground in
believing that we have to have very serious moral reasons to justify killing people.
In the Western just-war tradition, war is thought to be morally acceptable if it can
satisfy certain ethical and procedural criteria. But that tradition also regards war
as potentially causing so much suffering, death and destruction that leaders must
carefully weigh those harms against the goals they hope to achieve through war. Even
if one's country has been seriously harmed, one's soldiers or other citizens unjustly
killed by foreign powers or terrorists, leaders still face significant moral constraints
under just-war criteria on what they may do in response. Having just cause to go to
war, for example, does not permit one to wage total war.
William Shakespeare's play about King Henry V of England, loosely based on historical
events in the early 1400's, provides a rich source of ethical issues in warfare and
military leadership. In what follows, I'll explain how I've found Shakespeare's play
to be useful in my own university courses in illustrating specific just-war concerns, and
draw some connections with recent U.S. military operations in Afghanistan and Iraq.
Jus ad Bellum: Just Cause, Right Intention, Proportionality,
Legitimate Authority
Henry V was not only heir to the English throne, but was also descended from a French
king, and had other claims to parts of France through other ancestors as well as some
recent treaties (Saccio 75-79; Meron ch. 3). At the beginning of Shakespeare's play,
Henry is deliberating with his close advisors about whether his claim on the French throne
is strong enough to justify his going to war against the French if they refuse to
recognize him as their true king. Henry asks the Archbishop of Canterbury for an
assessment of his claim, and warns him to be scrupulously honest:
"God forbid, my dear and faithful lord,
That you should fashion ... or bow your reading....
For God doth know how many now in health
Shall drop their blood in approbation
Of what your reverence shall incite us to.
Therefore take heed how you impawn our person,
How you awake our sleeping sword of war....
For never two such kingdoms did contend
Without much fall of blood, whose guiltless drops
Are every one a woe, a sore complaint
'Gainst him whose wrongs gives edge unto the swords
That makes such waste in brief mortality." (Act 1, scene 2)
In this moving passage, Henry indicates that he is keenly aware of the high cost of war in
innocent human lives, and therefore the moral importance of sincere and careful appraisal
of the reasons offered in support of war. And later he expresses great affection and
admiration for his troops, e.g., at the battles of Harfleur (3.1) and Agincourt (4.3)
where he praises the courage even of the lower-class yeomen and calls them his brothers:
"We few, we happy few...."
In teaching the play, I've found it intriguing to compare Henry's deliberations with the
advice of Francisco de Vitoria, who lived after the real Henry but before
Shakespeare. Legal historian Theodor Meron (10-11) doubts that Shakespeare knew the
work of Vitoria or other just-war theorists like Suarez or Gentili, though the latter were
his contemporaries, and Gentili even taught at Oxford. But Meron infers from the
play that Shakespeare was quite familiar with existing laws of war as well as the
customary ways in which royals deliberated about war.
According to Vitoria (307, 310), when a head of state is trying to determine whether there
is just cause to go to war, "One must consult reliable and wise men who can speak
with freedom and without anger or hate or greed.... [I]f he is in doubt about his rightful
title [to a particular region, e.g.] he must carefully examine the case and listen
peacefully to the reasons of the other side, to see if a clear decision can be reached in
favor of himself or the other party." Unfortunately, Shakespeare's Henry V has
surrounded himself with advisors who are all biased in favor of war. And the
Archbishop whom Henry trusts to provide an objective opinion has a hidden agenda, to fund
Henry's war in France in the hope of quashing a parliamentary bill that would have taken
enormous tracts of church land (1.1).
The Archbishop effectively refutes the French argument against Henry's claim via his
female ancestor (1.2). But he ignores the fact that there have been nearly 100 years
of rule by another family line in France, making French nobles and commoners unlikely to
want to shift their allegiance abruptly to Henry.
Furthermore, was it realistic to believe that people speaking different languages and
separated by the Channel could become a unified nation under Henry V? I think that
Shakespeare implies otherwise in his striking insertion of a comic scene in 3.5 with its
dialogue almost entirely in the French language. The conversation there also focuses
on words for body parts, which Shakespeare may have meant to hint that Katherine, the
French king's daughter, would be treated as a form of property, part of the spoils of
Henry's military victories. And there's an analogy drawn in 5.2 between virgins and
fortified towns ("girdled with maiden walls"). Shakespeare may have
intended these elements of the play to remind his audience that the French were conquered
against their will, that Henry's invasion was akin to the rape of a virgin. Then
again, it's tempting but quite possibly anachronistic to imagine Shakespeare as a feminist
ahead of his time: Shakespeare and his audience may have assumed that that Henry
was merely taking what was his by right anyway, whether it was French land or the daughter
of the French king.
Returning to Henry's initial deliberations about whether to war against France, his other
advisors suggest that European monarchs will expect him to enforce his claims, like his
ancestors did. And they appeal to his warlike courage and youthful desire to expand
his power. None of them urges caution or careful consideration of French
counter-claims. All of this has the effect of persuading Henry to go to war:
"France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe or break it all to pieces" (1.2).
He then receives a message from the French dauphin (the crown prince), who repudiates
Henry's demands and offers in their place a "treasure" of tennis balls, an
insulting reference to Henry's former reputation as a rowdy, irresponsible playboy.
Even though it's not clear that this message was sent with the knowledge or permission of
the French king, Henry is deeply insulted by it, and says to the French ambassador:
"Tell the pleasant Prince this mock of his
Hath turned his balls to gunstones, and his soul
Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance
That shall fly from them-for many a thousand widows
Shall this his mock mock out of their dear husbands,
Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down...." (1.2)
Here Henry seems to have allowed a personal insult to cloud his objective moral assessment
of jus ad bellum. His anger and his obsession with winning the French crown
overwhelm the more humane disposition he exhibited at the beginning of the play. In
just-war terms, he's not clearly satisfied the criteria of just cause, right intention or
proportionality. He's hurtling headlong into war. (According to Saccio 80,
the tennis-ball incident never actually occurred. But no matter, as it reminds us
how personal animosities between national leaders can sometimes drive or exacerbate
momentous international crises.)
Just before Henry leads his army against the French, an assassination attempt sponsored by
them is uncovered (2.2). The real Henry V did indeed quash an assassination plot,
but the conspirators didn't need French money to have a motive for deposing him:
they sought to replace him with someone whom they believed had a stronger claim to it than
Henry, due to his father's usurpation of the crown from Richard II. In other words,
the assassination was rooted in a controversy concerning Henry's legitimate authority, not
foreign intervention (Saccio 72-75). The only hint of this in the play occurs on the
eve of the battle of Agincourt, when Henry prays that God will be with his troops and not
hold his father's sin against him (4.1).
Curiously, Shakespeare doesn't portray Henry as holding a grudge against the French for
trying to assassinate him, even though that would have dramatically strengthened his
rationale for war. In other words, having invented a French role in the conspiracy
to murder him, Shakespeare subsequently forgets all about it! In Act V, Henry treats
the French king--the sponsor of his would-be assassins--with surprising cordiality.
After Henry lands in France with his army, his relative Exeter delivers an ultimatum
directly to the French king, similar in its ominous tone to Henry's earlier retort to the
dauphin:
"[King Henry bids you to] deliver up the crown, and to take mercy
On the poor souls for whom this hungry war
Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head
[Are laid] the widows' tears, the orphans' cries,
The dead men's blood, the pining maidens' groans,
For husbands, fathers, and betrothed lovers
That shall be swallowed in this controversy." (2.4)
Notice that like Henry's retort to the dauphin's insult, and in contrast to his initial
warning to his Archbishop, with Exeter's ultimatum Henry has completely shed any sense of
personal responsibility for the destruction that the war will cause. All of its
carnage will be the fault of the French. Now there's obviously an important sense in
which those who cause an unnecessary war are primarily responsible for the deaths that
result. But it doesn't follow that the other side is not also accountable for at
least some of those deaths.
One additional topic relevant to Henry's authority to wage war and the justice of his
cause concerns the conditions under which citizens must obey the order of their government
to fight. This issue is wonderfully explored by Shakespeare in a conversation on the
eve of the battle of Agincourt between Henry (in disguise) and some of his men (4.1):
Henry: "Methinks I could not die anywhere so
contented as in the King's company, his cause being just and his quarrel honorable."
Williams: "That's more than we know."
Bates: "Ay, or more than we should seek
after. For we know enough if we know we are the King's subjects. If his cause
be wrong, our obedience to the King wipes the crime of it out of us."
Williams: "But if the cause be not good, the King
himself hath a heavy reckoning to make, when all those legs and arms and heads chopped off
in a battle shall join together at the latter day, and cry all, 'We died at such a
place'--some swearing, some crying for a surgeon, some upon their wives left poor behind
them, some upon the debts they owe, some upon their children rawly left. I am
afeard there are few die well that die in a battle, for how can they charitably dispose of
anything, when blood is their argument? Now, if these men do not die well, it will
be a black matter for the King that led them to it--who to disobey were against all
proportion of subjection."
Bates later pledges to fight "lustily" for Henry, but here he argues that
because soldiers must obey their king, they can't be blamed if the king's reasons for
going to war are unjust. Williams adds, though, that if the king's cause is truly
unjust, he'll have a lot to answer for in terms of the unnecessary deaths of his soldiers
and the effects on their wives and children. He also seems to imply that the
Christian souls of soldiers are endangered in battle, perhaps because they can't maintain
dispositions of Christian love and repentance while they're killing, and thus may die in a
sinful state. So even if soldiers are innocent in some sense, the king in effect
forces them to incur moral taint. (On the need for medieval Christian soldiers to
perform penance for killing enemy soldiers, even in a just war, see Verkamp chs. 1-2.)
These are important concerns that almost any soldier in combat might express, emphasized
by Shakespeare with vivid and emotionally charged images. Unfortunately, the King's
subsequent reply completely evades the issue of his responsibility in forcing his soldiers
to kill and endanger their own lives and souls for a possibly unjust cause. Military
leaders owe their troops much more careful consideration before placing them in harm's
way.
Theodor Meron mentions an intriguing fact about Henry that apparently Shakespeare didn't
know. After conquering Harfleur, Henry challenged the French dauphin to a duel, the
result of which would determine which of them would rule France. Henry ostensibly
sought to prevent further destruction, suffering, and losses of life that the war would
continue to produce, which in itself would be attractive under jus ad bellum principles of
proportionality and last resort. But the dauphin apparently never responded to the
challenge, either because he feared losing his life to an older and stronger warrior, or
because he would not wager the throne of France on such an unpredictable scenario, or
perhaps because it would imply that the issue of just cause in that war was of no real
consequence. (Meron ch. 7)
Jus in Bello: Noncombatant Immunity and Proportionality
Under modern just-war criteria, soldiers are subject to being killed in combat until they
surrender or are incapacitated by their wounds. The point is that combatants may
justly be harmed only so long as they pose a credible threat to others. Most
civilians pose no such threat, and thus may not be intentionally killed except in rare
circumstances (e.g., if they work in munitions factories). Moreover, if civilians
are determined to be at risk in legitimate military attacks, then officials must carefully
consider whether the target needs to be hit at all. If so, it should involve the
least destructive force necessary to do the job, to minimize "collateral
damage." Those moral ideas are often encapsulated as rules of noncombatant
immunity and proportionality, and have been incorporated into international treaties
such as the Hague and Geneva conventions. Even if our enemies do not hold themselves
to those high standards, we cannot shirk our own responsibility to do so.
Of course, King Henry V lived well before the formulation in just-war theory or
international law of a comprehensive principle of noncombatant immunity, not to mention
technologies like satellite surveillance and smart weapons that help us to uphold such a
principle. Many battles in Henry V's era involved sieges of fortified towns, which
often led to horrific losses of both soldiers and civilians from indiscriminate
weapons. Captured towns were also frequently subject to total annihilation (Meron
ch. 6).
But even in Henry's day, it was understood that direct attacks on civilians violated
Christian prohibitions on killing the innocent, as well as a secular code of chivalry
among knights that ruled out intentional harms to defenseless people as unprofessional
(Meron 91-93). With that in mind, consider the frightening ultimatum that Henry
delivers to the fortified city of Harfleur, the first town that he attacks after landing
in France. (An abridged version of this speech was delivered by Kenneth Branagh with
chilling effect in his 1989 film of the play.)
"How yet resolves the Governor of the town?
This is the latest parle we will admit [i.e. the last cease-fire we'll allow].
Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves,
Or like to men proud of destruction
Defy us to do our worst. For as I am a soldier...
If I begin the batt'ry once again
I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
Till in her ashes she lie buried.
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,
And the fleshed soldier, rough and hard of heart,
In liberty of bloody hand shall range
With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass
Your fresh fair virgins and your flow'ring infants....
What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause,
If your pure maidens fall into the hand
Of hot and forcing violation?
What rein can hold licentious wickedness
When down the hill he holds his fierce career...?
Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
Take pity of your town and of your people
Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command,
Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds
Of heady murder, spoil, and villainy.
If not--why, in a moment look to see
The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand
Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters;
Your fathers taken by the silver beards,
And their most reverend heads dashed to the walls;
Your naked infants spitted upon pikes,
Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused
Do break the clouds....
What say you? Will you yield, and this avoid?
Or, guilty in defense, be thus destroyed?" (3.4)
In sum, if Harfleur won't surrender, the English will do their worst and have no mercy.
His soldiers will rape women and slaughter infants and the elderly. Henry
won't be able to stop them, and doesn't much care to. In the end he'll burn the city
to the ground, and their destruction will be their own fault.
In the face of this ultimatum, Harfleur duly surrenders, and Henry then tells Exeter to
"use mercy to them all." So was his ultimatum just a bluff?
Possibly, since elsewhere (3.7) he set strict rules ordering his soldiers not to molest or
plunder civilians, and punished soldiers who broke those rules. In other words, he
cared more about military ethics--and was better able to control his troops--than he let
on in his ultimatum. On the other hand, his angry speech at Harfleur was consistent
with his earlier threats against the French dauphin and king that innocent people would
die if his rule in France were not accepted. Meron notes an actual precedent for
this in the year 1370 when the English massacred 3,000 unarmed French residents of Limoges
after the town surrendered. Henry himself after capturing Caen spared only its
women, children and priests; all other adult males were massacred. And in spite of
his order in the play to "use mercy" against Harfleur, the real Henry expelled
most poor people from the town. (Meron ch. 6)
But even if Shakespeare intended us to infer that Henry was bluffing at Harfleur in
threatening atrocities, his ultimatum clearly went well beyond predicting "collateral
damage" from his siege tactics. We might well question whether it was ethical
for him to threaten something that would be immoral to do, even if the threat was intended
to achieve a legitimate military goal. (Compare our possession of nuclear weapons as
a deterrent against their use against us by other countries.)
During the battle of Agincourt, there is another powerful scene where marauding French
soldiers are reported to have killed a group of English boys who had been assigned to
guard the supplies (4.7). One of the English soldiers, outraged at the slaughter of
those defenseless boys, cries that it's "expressly against the law of arms" and
"an errant piece of knavery." But no one (including Henry) evinces any
regret or remorse at having brought the boys along on the campaign and thus placing their
lives at risk.
Shakespeare's play also provokes ethical reflection on the proper treatment of prisoners
of war. In the midst of the battle of Agincourt (4.6), Henry's army was well on its
way to defeating a much larger French army. But he didn't yet know that, and fearing
at one point that French forces were regrouping for a counterattack, he ordered his men to
kill their prisoners. In the play that line usually goes by so quickly that readers
or viewers might completely miss its import. But Gary Taylor (243) in his scholarly
edition of the play claims that Shakespeare's original text gave an explicit stage
direction, "The soldiers kill their prisoners," which when performed by the
actors would have a much more powerful effect on audiences than simply hearing Henry's
order by itself. (Unfortunately, Kenneth Branagh and Lawrence Olivier completely
excised that scene from their films of the play, perhaps because it would undermine their
otherwise consistent portrayal of Henry as a noble hero.)
Today the international law of war explicitly prohibits the killing of prisoners:
"It is especially forbidden to kill or wound an enemy who, having laid down his arms,
or having no longer means of defense, has surrendered at discretion.... A commander may
not put his prisoners to death because their presence retards his movements or diminishes
his power of resistance by necessitating a large guard, or by reason of their consuming
supplies, or because it appears certain that they will regain their liberty through the
impending success of their forces. It is likewise unlawful for a commander to kill
his prisoners on grounds of self-preservation, even in the case of airborne or commando
operations, although the circumstances of the operation may make necessary rigorous
supervision of and restraint upon the movement of prisoners of war." (U.S. Army Field
Manual 27-10, 2.29, 3.85.)
But we might imagine ourselves in a situation similar to that of Henry V, commanding
soldiers in the face of a much larger force. In spite of the strict legal
regulations just cited, would it really be unethical to order that no quarter be given or
that prisoners be killed, if we thought that our own soldiers were at risk of annihilation
and we couldn't spare any of them to guard prisoners? (Keegan 108-112 connects that
rationale with the killing of French prisoners at the actual battle of Agincourt.)
Granted that killing surrendered and disarmed soldiers is a horrific thing, bordering on
murder, is it really fair to prohibit their captors from doing so in the heat of battle,
if they have reason to fear that they themselves will otherwise be killed? These are
questions that I pose to my students in wrestling with the implications of the play.
Concluding Reflections
I fear that we repeated some of Henry's mistakes in our recent wars in Afghanistan and
Iraq. On the one hand, I think that the U.S. military deserves considerable credit
for its uses of weapons and tactics there, attacking only those targets that it believes
to be directly connected with Al Qaeda and the Taliban, or the regime of Saddam Hussein,
respectively, and using smart weapons to an unprecedented extent to limit civilian
casualties. Although hundreds of civilians have been killed accidentally by American
munitions in Afghanistan (Filkins), and perhaps over 1,000 in Iraq (Schofield et al.),
that represents a considerable improvement over our use of less discriminate weapons and
tactics against military targets in Korea and Vietnam, let alone our intentional
obliteration bombing of civilian areas in Germany and Japan in WWII.
But some commentators have rightly criticized the U.S. Department of Defense for not
assessing or reporting the number of Afghan or Iraqi civilians who have been killed or
wounded by our weapons. Why has DoD failed to account for them? According to
the San Jose Mercury News, DoD's excuse was, "We were not trying to inflict civilian
deaths; therefore, we are not counting civilian deaths" ("U.S.
Military..."). "The Bush administration says it will not tally Iraqi dead,
either civilian or military" (Schofield et al.). An even more troubling reason
why DoD administrators haven't worried about such numbers is that they don't think they're
to blame for killing any civilians. Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld has
frequently asserted that the responsibility for civilian deaths lies entirely with Al
Qaeda, the Taliban, and the Iraqi regime. In effect, he places "the widows'
tears, the orphans' cries/The dead men's blood" (2.4) solely on the consciences of
our enemies, assigning them all of the guilt as did Henry the French leaders for the
destruction that was to follow.
Now, it's certainly fair to hold Al Qaeda and the Taliban primarily responsible for the
recent war in Afghanistan: Al Qaeda slaughtered over 3,000 of our innocent
civilians, and the Taliban not only refused to expel the terrorists from their country but
actively supported and hid them. Neither organization has shown any respect for
innocent people's lives, Afghan or otherwise. And short of going to war, we could
not realistically have punished Al Qaeda or seriously weakened its ability to wage
massacres in the future. Moreover, Iraqi officials certainly ought to be held
accountable for refusing to cooperate with U.N. Security Council resolutions demanding the
disclosure and destruction of weapons of mass destruction, as well as for placing
offensive weapons in or near civilian neighborhoods and using innocent people as human
shields in combat (Gutman).
But when our bombs and missiles kill Afghan and Iraqi civilians, we share the
responsibility for their deaths. We can't shift all of the blame to Al Qaeda or the
Taliban or Saddam's men. We must hold ourselves accountable as well. If we
don't, we risk sinking to their level of indiscriminate, total war.
War may always be hell in some respects, but it need not be in a moral sense. We're
morally obligated to do what we can to keep it from becoming that. We must use
weapons and tactics in ways that minimize civilian casualties, even as indirect
consequences of legitimate military attacks. We can't completely excuse our killing
of civilians simply by claiming that we never intentionally targeted them.
Appendix: Lesson Plans
I typically reserve three one-hour class sessions for Henry V during a 10-week
undergraduate Ethics and Warfare course:
Session 1: I recommend to my students as background reading pages
v-xli, 147-149 and 153-154 of Roma Gill's edition of the play, which contains useful
information on the real Henry V's family tree (important regarding just cause and
legitimate authority), and brief introductions to each scene. In class, I show brief
excerpts from two film versions of the play: Henry's initial deliberations in 1.2, his
ultimatum to Harfleur in 4.1, and his pep-talk to his soldiers prior to the battle of
Agincourt, all from Kenneth Branagh's 1989 film; and Henry's conversations with his
soldiers on the eve of that battle, from a 1980 film version of the play by the BBC.
Session 2: Discuss the play's Prologue and most of Acts 1-3.
(The following sections are recommended but not required: 2.1, 2.3, 3.3, 3.5, 3.8.)
Session 3: Discuss Act 4. (4.8 and Act 5 are recommended but
not required.)
At the end of session one, I provide my students with the following questions to guide
their reading of the play and our discussions of it during sessions 2 and 3:
1) King Henry V came to believe that he had just cause to go to war against France.
What reasons he would give in support of that belief?
2) Francisco de Vitoria wrote that when a head of state is deliberating as to
whether there is just cause to go to war, "One must consult reliable and wise men who
can speak with freedom and without anger or hate or greed." Also, "if he
is in doubt about his rightful title [to a particular region, e.g.] he must carefully
examine the case and listen peacefully to the reasons of the other side, to see if a clear
decision can be reached in favor of himself or the other party." By those
standards, how would you judge King Henry's deliberations?
3) Consider the following matters of "proportionality":
a) Were his objectives and motives weighty enough to justify war?
b) Before deciding to go to war against France, did Henry adequately
recognize and accept responsibility for the death and suffering that would probably
result?
c) Did he wage war only as a last resort?
4) In 4.1, what do soldiers Bates and Williams have to say about obedience to the
king, and the implications if the king's reasons for going to war are unjust?
5) Is Henry's response to their concerns adequate?
6) In 3.4, examine Henry's chilling ultimatum to Harfleur:
a) Do you think that Henry would have been unable, as he claimed, to
stop his men from committing the atrocities he warned about?
b) Was it fair for him to blame the leaders of Harfleur for those
atrocities if they refused to surrender?
c) How would you interpret his ultimatum in light of his subsequent
order to Exeter to "use mercy to them all"? Was the ultimatum merely a
bluff? If so, do you think it was ethical for him to use that to try to end the
siege?
7) Consider Henry's orders and threats to kill captured French soldiers in 4.6-4.7.
Under the circumstances, do you think that they were justified?
8) If you were in command of an army that was greatly outnumbered and about to be
overrun, would it be ethical for you to order your soldiers to give no quarter (i.e., to
kill every enemy soldier whom they disable or capture)?
9) In 4.7, Llewellyn condemns the French slaughter of the boys who had been guarding
the English supplies as "expressly against the law of arms" and an "arrant
piece of knavery." But do you think that the English also bear some
responsibility for bringing boys that close to a battle?
Sources and Other Recommended Readings
Carl Ceulemans, "The Military Response of the U.S.-Led Coalition to the September 11
Attacks," in Bruno Coppieters and Nick Fotion, eds., Moral Constraints on War:
Principles and Cases (Lexington Books, 2002), pp. 265-291.
Dexter Filkins, "Flaws in U.S. Air War Left Hundreds of Civilians Dead," New
York Times, 21 July 2002.
Roy Gutman, "War's Power to Drive Humanitarian Law," San Jose Mercury News,
6 April 2003.
John Keegan, The Face of Battle (Penguin Books, 1978).
Theodor Meron, Henry's Wars and Shakespeare's Laws: Perspectives on the Law of War in
the Later Middle Ages (Oxford University Press, 1993).
Peter Saccio, Shakespeare's English Kings (Oxford University Press, 2000).
Matthew Schofield, Nancy Youssef and Juan Tamayo, "Baghdad Civilian Deaths
Tallied," San Jose Mercury News, 4 May 2003.
William Shakespeare, Henry V, edited by Roma Gill (Oxford University Press,
2001).
________, edited by Gary Taylor (Oxford University Press, 1998).
U.S. Army Field Manual 27-10, The Law of Land Warfare, edited by Nile Stanton,
http://nile.ed.umuc.edu/~nstanton/FM27-10.htm.
"U.S. Military Should Own Up
to Afghan Civilian Casualties," editorial, San Jose Mercury News, 14 April
2002.
Bernard Verkamp, The Moral Treatment of Returning Warriors in Early Medieval and
Modern Times (University of Scranton Press, 1993).
Francisco de Vitoria, On the Law of War (1539), in Anthony Pagden and Jeremy
Lawrence, ed., Francisco de Vitoria: Political Writings (Cambridge University
Press, 1991).
None of the views expressed in
this essay should be construed necessarily to reflect those of the U.S. Government or
SCU. Please do not reproduce or quote from this essay without permission from the
author.
Go to Dr.
Perry's CV.