Mother
tucked me into my bed, and then waited while I said
my prayers. “God bless daddy in the Philippines,”
I said. “And God bless aunt Wanda in Europe,
and cousin Benny, and…” My daddy had been
sent first to Europe, then to the Philippines where
his unit was training for the invasion of Japan.
Each night I fell asleep, wondering if I would ever
see my dad again. Sometimes I cried into my pillow,
but I was proud of my father because he was fighting
to free the world from Fascism. He was doing what
good men and women had always done—risking
his life so that others could live in peace and
freedom.
One
night my hero came home from the war on a troop
train. People were screaming and crying and hugging
the men who disembarked from this train. And there
was daddy, walking toward us with a Japanese rifle
slung over his shoulder. My heart exploded with
pride. *My country had defeated Fascism. We had
a right to be proud of victory over the forces of
evil. From now on, the world would be a safer place
for children like myself. Never again would I have
lie in bed, sobbing because my daddy was far away,
serving his country in a time of war.
I
will always be proud of my father, and I will always
honor the men and women who gave their lives to
end Hitler’s tyranny and to defeat Japan. But
I fail to understand how accepting government lies
and deception honors the sacrifice of American,
Irish, British, and so many other soldiers who fought
in World War II. Moreover, I’m growing increasingly
angry at those who choose to insult the memory of
these courageous men and women by insisting that
the war on Iraq (not in, but on) is a crusade to
liberate the Iraqi people from tyranny so that they
can one day establish an American-style democracy.
The
tragedy for the Iraqi people, and for young Americans
who are killing and dying in that country, is that
unscrupulous politicians like George W. Bush and
friends are willing to sully the memory of soldiers
like my father by insisting that the war on Iraq
is about justice and freedom and democracy. Comparing
the war on Iraq to World War II is like suggesting
that a camel and a humming bird look alike. If one
is to believe the news media, and I certainly do
not, it would appear that destroying Fallujah, a
city of 300,000, is similar to the liberation of
Paris. Driving tens of thousands of Iraqi civilians
into refugee camps is similar to pushing the German
Army out of Belgium. Dropping 500-pound bombs on
homes and hospitals is similar to defeating Rommel’s
tank units in North Africa.
I
am not trying to discredit the bravery, or question
the honor, of U.S. soldiers who are dying and being
seriously wounded (135 killed in action this past
November) in Iraq. I am asking why the politicians
who were, theoretically, elected to serve the American
people are so silent? What accounts for their refusal
to question the necessity of spending 200 million
dollars a day in Iraq, a billion dollars a week,
to destroy a country that is not a threat, never
was a threat, and never will be a threat to world
peace? Why are those who claim to believe in “democracy”
so quiet when women and children are being killed
by American bombs and bullets in Iraq, when entire
cities are being destroyed, when a guerrilla campaign
against the U.S occupation is growing, when the
Pentagon is asking for more troops, extending tours
of duty of soldiers already in the war zone, and
predicting that the occupation might last from five
to ten years more years?
In
the documentary film, “Fog of War,” former
Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara talks about
the role he played in the Johnson administration’s
attempts to win the Vietnam War. Now in his eighties,
McNamara appears to regret some of the decisions
he made; nevertheless, he continues to argue that
nations must sometimes do “evil” in order
to accomplish a “greater good.” Governments,
says McNamara, must consider “proportionality,”
when fighting wars, meaning that intelligent, logical,
educated men and women must decide whether it is
necessary to kill large numbers of innocent human
in order to achieve some worthwhile goal. Mr. McNamara
did not say whether he thought destroying Vietnam
in order to save it was compatible with his own
Catholic beliefs. Nor was he asked whether he believed
that, like the Second World War in which he participated,
Vietnam was a crusade to liberate the world from
Fascism.
Watching
this film, I was stunned by how little Mr. McNamara
seems to have learned from the debacle in Vietnam,
and how easy it would be to substitute Iraq for
nearly every single thing he has to say about Vietnam.
Like Vietnam, our politicians are lying to the American
people, to the world, and to themselves about the
war in Iraq. Like Vietnam, our military insists
that it will soon defeat the ragtag guerrillas who
dare to attack on the mightiest army in the world.
Like Vietnam, the United States of America is willing
to use massive firepower to defeat the enemy, even
if this means killing great numbers of innocent
civilians. And like Vietnam, the architects of the
madness in Iraq will send their own sons and daughters
off to Harvard and Yale, not to the killing fields
of the Middle East. Mr. Bush and company will celebrate
the holidays far from the stench of burning children
and rotting bodies; far from the screams of terrified
civilians trapped inside of their homes while bombs
rain upon their neighborhood. Mr. Bush and friends
will gather around a cozy fire to celebrate the
birth of the Prince of Peace. Perhaps they will
sing carols and thank God that they live in the
richest and most powerful country in the world.
They might even raise a toast to victory over the
evil ones who are audacious enough to fight back
against the occupation of their homeland.
One
can only hope that these jolly champions of world
freedom will step back from their hubris and ask
themselves why they think that turning an ancient
country in into a parking lot, so that it can be
rebuilt as a Wal-Mart shopping center, is a noble
thing to do. They might also ask themselves how
they can be so crass as to suggest that a massive
preemptive attack on an impoverished nation is similar
to D-Day at Normandy.
G.W.
Bush and his coterie will continue to insist that
good things come out of unnecessary, illegal, wars.
That’s because, while other young men were
dying in the jungles and rice paddies of Vietnam,
these armchair warriors were snug as little millionaire
bugs, always ready to play the Rambo hero, yet never
willing to risk their own lives for the principles
in which they claim, so very passionately, to believe.
