There was an outstanding op-ed in the NYT yesterday by Phil Klay, “What Trump Is Really Doing With His Boat Strikes.” It is a thoughtful moral analysis of a sort that we too-seldom see in the press.

Klay speaks of the Trump Administration’s “snuff films” – best label for them yet – of attacks on Venezuelan boats. And, after discussing St. Augustine’s discussion of the dangers of “the monstrous delight in cruelty,” he says this:

There are many reasons to object to the policies that the Trump administration’s videos and memes showcase. Yet the images themselves also inflict wounds, of the kind that Alypius [the subject of Augustine’s reflections] suffered when he raised his eyelids. The president inhabits a position of moral leadership. When the president and his officials sell their policies, they’re selling a version of what it means to be an American — what should evoke our love and our hate, our disgust and our delight. If all governments rest on opinion, as James Madison thought, then it is this moral shaping of the electorate that gives the president his freedom of action, and that we will still have to reckon with once he is gone.

His main point is that all of the discussion of the legalities of the “double tap,” of the strikes, of the so-called war on narcoterrorism, does not get to the underlying cost of these actions to our collective moral sense:

In lieu of careful analysis of the campaign’s legality, detailed rationales for the boat strikes and explanations of why they couldn’t be done with more traditional methods, we get Mr. Hegseth posting an image of himself with laser eyes and video after video of alleged drug traffickers being killed. The cartoon turtle is just one example in an avalanche of juvenile public messaging about those we kill. I suspect the question the administration cares about is not “is this legal,” “is this a war crime,” “is this murder” or even “is this good for America,” but rather, “isn’t this violence delightful?”

And he has this to say about the personal impact:

This wounding of the national soul is hard for me to watch. Twenty years ago, I joined the Marine Corps because I thought military service would be an honorable profession. Its honor derives from fighting prowess and adherence to a code of conduct. Military training is about character formation, with virtues taught alongside tactics. But barbaric behavior tarnishes all who wear, or once wore, the uniform, and lust for cruelty turns a noble vocation into mere thuggery. “The real evils in war,” Augustine said, “are love of violence, revengeful cruelty, fierce and implacable enmity, wild resistance, and the lust of power.” 

I highly recommend his article. We need more of this sort of articulation of moral clarity,