Who are we to judge?

With all of the recent participation by the United States in other countries' internal conflicts over the last several years, it raises the following question: who are we to judge?  Some bystander on the street wouldn't necessarily intervene in someone else's family conflict, so how is it that the United States of America can go into some other place and dictate what constitutes right and wrong within that place's own -- distinct -- context?  Without knowing and fully understanding all of the minute details of that other culture and the inner workings of their society, truth is, the United States is incapable of single-handedly deciding what would be acting in the best interest(s) of that place, its people, and its future.

Personally, I am a little conflicted about the matter.  It is easy for me to say, for example, that the practice of female genital mutilation (FGM) should be banned, but I don't presume to know how and in what context it is justifiable, for example, to say that a government should move from communism to democracy.  That seems backwards, though, that I could say one and not the other, when the same logic applies to both ideas.

Another example: polygamy.  Having more than one wife is a practice that is frowned upon in many places, but if the individuals involved in the polygamous relations consent to the lifestyle and its practices, then who are we to judge?  Perhaps my position on polygamy has been shaped by Big Love, a television show that chronicles the life of a guy with three wives and their family, a show that portrays them as one big family that just happens to have one patriarch and three wives.  They try to lead some semblance of a normal life, but at the same time, they know they have to lie to the outside world in order to protect their beliefs and their family.  One of the principal arguments in favor of gay marriage is that everyone should be entitled to marry whomever they choose, so who is everyone else to meddle?  In the same vein, that reasoning should apply to polygamy.  But, wait.  How about people like the leader of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (FLDS), Warren Jeffs, who use their religious and societal status to carry out accomplice rape and to resist the law?  Maybe in his case, it was less about polygamy and more about his actions that landed him in prison with a 10-year sentence.

I think what initially got me thinking about this was an observation I had in El Salvador last summer.  When I was in the community, a community with very few financial resources, several of us observed that one thing the community members chose to invest in was soccer jerseys.  How can a community choose to spend their money -- however much/little they have -- on soccer jerseys when there are days that even food is scarce?  At first, I'll admit, we discussed that observation in a judgmental way, thinking that this community shouldn't be spending their money that way.  Upon further reflection, however, we quickly changed our minds.  Those jerseys created an instant and unbreakable sense of identity.  All it took was putting on a uniform to create unity, so that all the people who lived and struggled in the community became one entity, one that fights together against the collective opponent.  It's actually a very admirable investment, as group unity and a feeling of togetherness have the potential to help a group of people overcome the challenges that come their way and to give them the motivation and perseverance to never give up.  Good life lessons, really.  And if they can be learned just by a change of clothes?  I'd say that's a pretty good deal.

This all kind of comes full circle because it turned out that, contrary to my (and others') initial perception, the community's actions reflected its values (soccer and togetherness, perhaps even in that order!) and no intervention was necessary; that is, anyone else's interference in telling this community how to "better" spend their money would have been more damaging than beneficial.  In now considering the other aforementioned examples, it makes me wonder whether we -- as a country and as a people -- are justified in making decisions about other people's cultures and day-to-day lives at all, without their explicit request for help.  In other words, if people ask for help to achieve certain goals, that's one thing, but for representatives of the U.S. -- the land of the free -- to go in and meddle where their "assistance" is unsolicited and where effective community values might already be in place, it's only making the others less free to establish and maintain the values and core beliefs they hold so dear.

So, in considering the examples on the broader spectrum as well as those that yield fewer repercussions, I ask the same overarching question: who are we to judge?