Memorial Moment

Twice a year, in November and May, the U.S. officially celebrates its men and women in uniform. Veterans Day can slide by quickly with a speech and a raised flag, given its midweek status in late fall, but Memorial Day, a three day weekend and the unofficial start to summer, is more likely to inspire a parade—along with a party, a barbeque, and a fair amount of beer.

As a kid, I biked all over our suburb’s streets, and consequently, some vigilant porch sitters and I noticed each other, spoke to each other, and began to look forward to our visits. What I remember most is talking about World War II. I can’t say I learned a lot about the war itself, but I clearly saw that something about this was a really big deal. I listened respectfully and intently, tried to understand the period novels I read, and when the subject came up in social studies, I paid attention.

Growing up in the sixties, I was to learn a lot more about armed conflict. As one speaker put it, “List four people you know between the ages of 18 and 24. Now cross off the first name on your list. That’s what war in Vietnam meant.” Ironically, President Johnson made Memorial Day an official U.S. Holiday, in 1966.

Today, the cry is constant—support the troops. God, I hate that word. Sounds better when “troops” are killed rather than “people”? But why the animosity often associated with the cry? Where are the groups crying, “Oppose the troops!”? Oh yeah—no such groups. Who doesn’t support the troops? And frankly, maybe that support shouldn’t be so blind. The massacre at My Lai? Prisoner abuse at Abu Grahab? The “retaliatory” murder of an innocent Iraqi citizen? One of my acquaintances, a Navy veteran, insists that we must support all of the troops no matter what.

I can’t agree. Such myopic reasoning allows troops to become little more than political pawns—any opposition brings the cry “Support the Troops!” Take Rumsfeld’s insistence—against the advice of the Pentagon—to run the Iraq war on the cheap. Friends, families and neighbors chip in to help buy the body armor the government neglected to supply. Soldiers raid junk yards to protect their vehicles from road side bombs. Where’s the support for the troops there? And when the Bush administration’s policies have clearly failed, the President grasps for a magical solution—more troops, with no clear plan, but clearly ready to sacrifice more lives on the chance he can still save face. So Congress finally tries to use the only real weapon it has to stop this nonsense—cut funding. Time for the cry—“Support the Troops!”

I’m quite ready to honor the troops, to remember those who gave so much to their country. But I’m not happy about it, especially now. I’m not naïve—as former President Carter noted when awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, war is sometimes a necessary evil. At the same time, however, “it is always an evil,” and not a course of action a country should so rashly follow.

So today we honor fallen troops. I am grateful to them, but I’d rather we were honoring them as the parents, spouses, doctors, lawyers, scientists, teachers, businessmen, mayors, and citizens they should have been.

Writer

When Patriots are Blind

Remember when George W. Bush invaded Iraq? How people lined up to insist Americans must line up behind the president? Now, thousands of deaths later, and with no end in sight, we still debate the issue, long after Bush’s “Mission Accomplished” bravado—bravado his administration still embraces while pointing to the flag and couching any debate in terms of winning or losing the war.

When will we decide that ego isn’t the way to conduct policy? That opponents to those polices serve an important function? Here’s what I wrote shortly after the second U.S. invasion of Iraq:

Imagine the U.S. and Iraq had made a deal: each country kills X number of their citizens, and in return, Iraq’s leaders step down.

Certainly no one would agree to such a horrific plan. Yet how is war essentially different? What comes from armed conflict that’s missing from a simple exchange of sacrificed lives?

The Bush administration wanted this badly--so much that to challenge Baghdad was worth killing Iraqis and losing American lives. And many Americans approve. Why?

The decision was hardly altruistic. America, self proclaimed defender of liberty, isn’t interested in helping the people of Burma, for example, despite their severely repressive regime. Rather, Americans seem motivated by a combination of poorly focused anger and a lack of foresight. Nobody defies America! Time to kick butt. Damn the logic.

The counter argument? “You unpatriotic bastard! This is the time to support our troops!” But this is a red herring. Everyone supports the troops--that was never in question. They’re doing a remarkable job in extremely trying circumstances. Back home, Americans aren’t doing so well. Apparently, it’s OK to protest a war as long as there isn’t a war. Right.

So blind patriotism rules the day, unblinking in the face of senseless rhetoric and obvious fallacies. “You’re either with us or against us.” False dilemma. “Iraq has to prove they don’t have these weapons.” Inappropriate burden of proof (can’t prove a negative). “Changing the regime in Baghdad will bring peace to Palestine.” Now THERE’S a non sequitur.

Consequently, instead of examining French and German reasons for their opposition to this war, Americans rename their deep fried potatoes. Instead of improving the search capacity of weapons inspectors, America takes on the job, with no better success. Can peace in Palestine be far behind?

The cost will be high. The Bush administration has made it clear that negotiating with the United States is useless--agree or move aside--and honors agreements only when convenient. America has invaded a country, ignoring United Nations objections, and is now viewed, quite understandably, as a threat to security. Since neither treaties nor refraining from aggressive actions will help against such an arrogant nation, the only solution is to acquire nuclear arms, the only thing that seems to get American attention.

Not much occasion for pride here.

Writer