This nation is at war. We hear that all the time and yet, there is something strange about that statement. In a way, it does feel like there is a war going on, but somehow it also feels like nothing is really happening. It is an eerie sensation if you stop and think about it. Even though we constantly hear about the deaths of soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan, we have not experienced any significant grief as a nation. Life goes on as usual here in the States, and the rising death toll of brave soldiers abroad has become a routine people can live with.
In a way, war and its consequences have been trivialized. There is a noticeable disconnect between American society and the realities of the war this nation is fighting. To put it differently, most people here are sort of in denial. There are several reasons behind this phenomenon. But in my judgment, the way the Bush administration has dealt with U.S. casualties is the most important reason.
Maybe you had not thought about this, but when was the last time you saw an image of a flag-draped casket, or a military funeral, or a weeping mother on TV? If you can't remember, it is because you haven't seen any since Bush's wars started. But why is that? The answer is because the Bush administration has banned news coverage of the return of dead soldiers to American soil.
By sanitizing and censuring the coverage of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the Bush administration is numbing the sensibilities of the American people. The harshness of the truth is being hidden from public view and ordinary Americans can no longer put a human face to the deadly statistics. It is not that people do not care about these deaths. It is just that they cannot put a human face or a human context to the numbers thrown at them. The American people are stuck in an emotional limbo. In a way, Bush has denied America the right to mourn collectively for its fallen heroes.
Contrast Bush's decision to hide the dead with the public and emotional funerals held in Italy and Spain when some of their troops died. It is OK for a nation to cry for its martyrs. It is healthy for society to feel the depth of the human loss and to heal together from the tragedy that is war.
But the masterminds of the Iraqi war will not have any of it. The Pentagon and the White House claim the reason behind this ban is to protect the privacy of relatives, but there is another, not-so-secret reason. Grief works against Bush. Sadness over lost lives leads to questioning. And questioning Bush's war leads to questioning his judgment. Was it really worth the lives of more than 700 hundred young Americans (not to mention the thousands of Iraqi lives we don't really care about) to attack Iraq, even if there were no WMD after all? More people than you think would say no.
On a different level however, waging war no longer seems to be the business of society in general. With the end of the draft, American civilians were no longer required to serve their country in times of war. They no longer had to pay the ultimate sacrifice. Instead, those who decided to join a professional army would take up the burden of defending the nation. Given the national trauma of the Vietnam era, ending the draft was a sensible policy, but there is one consequence that intrigues me. I wonder whether the American public in general would be as eager to go to war as a nation if they knew that the sacrifice would be shared evenly throughout society. I fear that it is easier to agree with the Iraqi war knowing that only those who volunteered to join the armed forces would pay the price, while the rest sit comfortably in their living rooms watching CNN.
War is a horrible thing and it should never be taken lightly. Every time there is a death, the ripples of sadness extend to entire families and communities. Let us never forget that. If this nation decides it must go to war, so be it. But let us never turn a blind eye to the individual tragedies that will inevitably follow such decisions.
This will be my last column for The Tufts Daily. I am immensely proud to have been a part of this organization. I am also thankful to have been given the opportunity to express my views with complete freedom. I also want to thank those who have read this column during the last three semesters. My only hope is that my modest insights sparked your curiosity. Remember that, like Howard Zinn likes to say, you can't be neutral on a moving train.
Rodrigo De Haro is a senior majoring in International Relations. He can be reached at deharo@tuftsdaily.com.
