As a country, we overwhelmingly support the bombings in Afghanistan.

We feel that our military actions are the actions of a "just war," and that the bombings are necessary to ensure American safety and stability. We feel that the Afghan civilian casualties, while tragic, are nevertheless unavoidable, and that any culpability for these deaths rests solely on the shoulders of the Taliban and al-Qaida.

And I stand with my fellow citizens, communally exulting democratic reign over tyranny, compassion over terror, and freedom over oppression.

I try to feel confident that our bombings are the necessary extension of our commitment to a stable democratic society. I reassure myself that the world will be made better, not worse, through our actions. I tell myself that we are doing the right thing. But sometimes, my confidence falters and I feel doubt.

I feel such doubt when I'm reading "A Nation Challenged" in the New York Times and I see stories of families displaced and lives shattered by a misguided United States cluster bomb. The doubt is there when I hear that world opinion of U.S. actions, which one-month ago was a bellowing chorus of support, has started to cool. And doubt shows up as I wonder whether the current bombings will be able to truly dismantle the means for future terrorist attacks.

It's a tough time to lose one's confidence. After all, to express doubt in the just nature of our military actions is to entertain the possibility that our actions may not necessarily be the best possible decision, or to go even farther, that our actions could be morally wrong.

And if our actions are morally wrong, then have we become the sort of "hi-tech bully" that many of our critics claim us to be? This slope created by doubt seems quite slippery.

So what does it mean when an American individual feels doubt in our collective military actions? Should this sort of faltering of confidence simply be ignored or overlooked? Should we say "well, if this doubter doubts the actions of America, then I doubt he or she is a real American to begin with, no doubt!" and proceed to marginalize the comments of the doubtful?

Of course not. In this conflict, we cannot afford to allow the doubtful to be marginalized, ignored or simply deemed unpatriotic and un-American. As a country, we must examine and listen to the feelings of doubt that may arise.

Those who are vocal with their doubts are likely raising concerns held, but unarticulated, by many Americans. Therefore, the doubtful must be engaged in a way that clearly elucidates our reasons for the chosen military action.

British Prime Minister Tony Blair, speaking on doubts and democracy, said it best in a speech to the Welch Assembly earlier this week.

He stated, "No one who raises doubts is an appeaser or a faint heart. We are a democracy, strong enough to have doubts raised even at a time of war and wise enough to be able to respond to them." It's true in Britain, and just as true on this side of the pond.

If we do not respond to doubts in a constructive manner we will be hobbling our fight against terrorism. For if the American people lose confidence because they are given weak justifications for our military actions, then how can we expect citizens of the rest of the world to remain supportive?

The White House has slowly realized the necessity to engage, and not simply dismiss, doubts raised by Americans, but there is still room for improvement. Ari Fleischer, Bush's press secretary, can no longer afford to marginalize doubters, as he did earlier in the crisis when responding to comments made by Bill Maher. Maher, host of ABC's Politically Incorrect, commented soon after the World Trade Center attacks that it was invalid to categorize the terrorists as "cowardly," and that firing cruise missiles from three-thousand miles away was much more of a cowardly act. When asked about Maher's comments during a press conference, Fleischer did not take the opportunity to respond directly to the doubts raise by Maher. Instead, Fleischer sternly reprimanded Maher, saying that Americans must "watch what they say."

Such an act of marginalization does little to reassure Americans about the just nature of our military actions. After all, our fight against terrorism is not a matter of "watching what we say," but rather a matter of being confident and resolute in what we do.

Next week will be the one-year anniversary of the 2000 Presidential Election. I had spent my entire fall trying to convince Penn State students that they should doubt the abilities of George W. Bush, and felt that I had done a pretty good job of it. Today, however, the idea of penning a column where I refer to the president as the Kegmeister and Keggy through the text seems quite inconceivable.

The nature of doubt has certainly changed since that chad-filled Tuesday almost one year ago.

And while the extreme doubt that characterized the approach by many Americans to Bush during his election campaign and during the first nine months of his presidency has understandably fallen out of vogue, we cannot condemn those who voice doubts over our actions in the fight against terrorism. Only by engaging the doubtful in a meaningful dialogue can we ensure that we are truly waging a just war.