|
I lost my son to a conflict I
oppose. We were both doing our duty
By Andrew J. Bacevich
Special to The Washington Post
05/27/07 "Salt
Lake Tribune" --- -- Parents who lose children,
whether through accident or illness, inevitably wonder what they
could have done to prevent their loss. When my son was killed in
Iraq earlier this month at age 27, I found myself pondering my
responsibility for his death.
Among the hundreds of messages that my wife and I have received,
two bore directly on this question. Both held me personally
culpable, insisting that my public opposition to the war had
provided aid and comfort to the enemy. Each said that my son's
death came as a direct result of my antiwar writings.
This may seem a vile accusation to lay against a grieving
father. But in fact, it has become a staple of American
political discourse, repeated endlessly by those keen to allow
President Bush a free hand in waging his war. By encouraging
"the terrorists," opponents of the Iraq conflict increase the
risk to U.S. troops. Although the First Amendment protects
antiwar critics from being tried for treason, it provides no
protection for the hardly less serious charge of failing to
support the troops - today's civic equivalent of dereliction of
duty.
What exactly is a father's duty when his son is sent into harm's
way?
Among the many ways to answer that question, mine was this one:
As my son was doing his utmost to be a good soldier, I strove to
be a good citizen.
As a citizen, I have tried since Sept. 11, 2001, to promote a
critical understanding of U.S. foreign policy. I know that even
now, people of good will find much to admire in Bush's response
to that awful day. They applaud his doctrine of preventive war.
They endorse his crusade to spread democracy across the Muslim
world and to eliminate tyranny from the face of the Earth. They
insist not only that his decision to invade Iraq in 2003 was
correct but that the war there can still be won. Some - the
members of the "the-surge-is-already-working" school of thought
- even profess to see victory just over the horizon.
I believe that such notions are dead wrong and doomed to fail.
In books, articles and op-ed pieces, in talks to audiences large
and small, I have said as much. "The long war is an unwinnable
one," I wrote in an August 2005 opinion piece in The Washington
Post. "The United States needs to liquidate its presence in
Iraq, placing the onus on Iraqis to decide their fate and
creating the space for other regional powers to assist in
brokering a political settlement. We've done all that we can
do."
Here was my own version of duty.
Not for a second did I expect my own efforts to make a
difference. But I did nurse the hope that my voice might combine
with those of others - teachers, writers, activists and ordinary
folks - to educate the public about the folly of the course on
which the nation has embarked. I hoped that those efforts might
produce a political climate conducive to change. I genuinely
believed that if the people spoke, our leaders in Washington
would listen and respond.
This, I can now see, was an illusion.
The people have spoken, and nothing of substance has changed.
The November 2006 midterm elections signified an unambiguous
repudiation of the policies that landed us in our present
predicament. But half a year later, the war continues, with no
end in sight. Indeed, by sending more troops to Iraq (and by
extending the tours of those, like my son, who were already
there), Bush has signaled his complete disregard for what was
once quaintly referred to as "the will of the people."
To be fair, responsibility for the war's continuation now rests
no less with the Democrats who control Congress than with the
president and his party. After my son's death, my state's
senators, Edward Kennedy and John Kerry, telephoned to express
their condolences. Stephen Lynch, our congressman, attended my
son's wake. Kerry was present for the funeral mass. My family
and I greatly appreciated such gestures. But when I suggested to
each of them the necessity of ending the war, I got the brushoff.
More accurately, after ever so briefly pretending to listen,
each treated me to a convoluted explanation that said in
essence: Don't blame me.
To whom do Kennedy, Kerry and Lynch listen? We know the answer:
to the same people who have the ear of George W. Bush and Karl
Rove - namely, wealthy individuals and institutions.
Money buys access and influence. Money greases the process that
will yield us a new president in 2008. When it comes to Iraq,
money ensures that the concerns of big business, big oil,
bellicose evangelicals and Middle East allies gain a hearing. By
comparison, the lives of U.S. soldiers figure as an
afterthought.
Memorial Day orators will say that a G.I.'s life is priceless.
Don't believe it. I know what value the U.S. government assigns
to a soldier's life: I've been handed the check. It's roughly
what the Yankees will pay Roger Clemens per inning once he
starts pitching next month.
Money maintains the Republican/Democratic duopoly of trivialized
politics. It confines the debate over U.S. policy to well-hewn
channels. It preserves intact the cliches of 1933-45 about
isolationism, appeasement and the nation's call to "global
leadership." It inhibits any serious accounting of exactly how
much our misadventure in Iraq is costing. It ignores completely
the question of who actually pays. It negates democracy,
rendering free speech into little more than a means of recording
dissent.
This is not some great conspiracy. It's the way our system
works.
In joining the Army, my son was following in his father's
footsteps: Before he was born, I had served in Vietnam. As
military officers, we shared an ironic kinship of sorts, each of
us demonstrating a peculiar knack for picking the wrong war at
the wrong time. Yet he was the better soldier - brave and
steadfast and irrepressible.
I know that my son did his best to serve our country. Through my
own opposition to a profoundly misguided war, I thought that I
was doing the same. In fact, while was he was giving all, I was
doing nothing. In this way, I failed him.
Andrew J. Bacevich teaches history and international relations
at Boston University. His son, 1st Lt. Andrew John Bacevich,
died May 13 after a suicide bomb explosion in Salah al-Din
province.
Click here
to comment on this and other articles
Send Page To a Friend
In accordance
with Title 17 U.S.C. Section 107, this material
is distributed without profit to those who have
expressed a prior interest in receiving the
included information for research and educational
purposes. Information Clearing House has no
affiliation whatsoever with the originator of
this article nor is Information ClearingHouse
endorsed or sponsored by the originator.)
|
