Book 14 - Chapter 6 (1 of 1) - Violence and the Warrior Ideal
(Note to the Reader: The next two chapters focus on our internal battle with selfishness. In these chapters, among other things, I grapple with a personal tension: can a person critique their nation's foreign policies, including its wars, while being supportive toward "the troops" in the armed services? While two of those who proofread this book are veterans and one is a mother of a veteran, I would love to hear veterans/ soldiers' opinions regarding this topic and whether, in the midst of a critique of some of my country's selfish and militaristic tendencies, my thoughts are expressed in a way that honors the sacrifices of those who have served in the military. As always, I would love to hear the thoughts of any readers {so if you feel that I am too soft in my criticism of American foreign policy, I'm receptive to that too}; I know I have blindspots and appreciate all of your insights.
Peace, Dave
CHAPTER SIX
VIOLENCE AND THE WARRIOR IDEAL
Walter Wink argues that the “Myth of Redemptive Violence is the real myth of the modern world. It, and not Judaism or Christianity or Islam, is the dominant religion in our society today.” Our stories (video games, comic books, TV shows, and movies) suggest that we believe salvation (human well-being) is accomplished through violence. Heroes are the good guys that “out-violence” the bad guys. This faith in violence is built on a foundation of fear and desire for control. Killing and violence are the ultimate acts of control. Interestingly, the majority of those identified with heroism in our society are powerful men who carry guns. There is little, if any, nobility recognized in being a simple laborer who works hard but remains dependent on another for work.
Our society is too often driven by the need to impose our own will. As we have seen, this can involve our will regarding resources, foreign regimes, and trade policies. Why did we support apartheid? We supported apartheid because it supported our desires. Why does the United States unquestionably support military spending and the military-industrial complex? No doubt there are real threats in our world that come into play here, but could some part of this also involve a need to assert and ensure our preferences? Why was the United States involved in toppling democratically-elected regimes in Iran, Congo, and Guatemala, and, in some cases, supporting violent regimes in Iraq, Guatemala, and El Salvador? Like the rest of the world, the United States is not simply oriented toward justice but also the interests of its wealthy and powerful members. I will leave it to the reader, who no doubt is well-versed in our national triumphs, to decide which principle, justice or self-interest, has played and should play a larger role in determining our policies.
HONORING THE WARRIOR
Does acknowledging that we, as a nation, are sometimes selfish mean that the soldiers who serve our country are not heroes? No, I believe soldiers often act heroically. At the same time it is important to resist labeling people as heroes based on a vocation; it eliminates the need to realize heroic living is a never-ending challenge. I also wonder if we unintentionally celebrate the wrong aspect of the soldier. I fear that we celebrate the gun. We celebrate the violence. We celebrate the superior ability to assert our will.
Consider our video games for a moment. One of the most popular entertainment genres is war simulation. In these games, as well as many action movies, it is the heroes’ willingness and superior ability to kill, not their selflessness and willingness to die, that we celebrate and emulate. This difference is significant. Willingness to die involves the ability to let go and overcome fear, whereas the willingness, and even desire, to kill emphasizes the ability to control. Willingness to die is about being oriented toward something larger than oneself, whereas willingness to kill can be focused on self-preservation. Willingness to die for a noble cause can be the fruit of a battle with our ego; willingness to kill primarily involves a battle against the evil other.
I am not arguing that soldiers should never kill. While I have non-violent leanings, I acknowledge that there are circumstances that legitimately lead people to use violence to defend themselves or someone else. Groups like the Nazis and ISIS, whose respect for life is conditional and selective, at least challenge us to consider the possibility that violence, when employed to defend vulnerable men, women, and children, is justified (a necessary evil). On the other hand we would do well to recognize that at times in our history we have selectively valued life; therefore, it is essential that we remain vigilant about our own attitude toward the lives of others. If violence is employed it should be evident that there is a discomfort with this course of action; after all, even when we justify our violence by pointing to how it protects life, it still does so at the expense of other lives. Our discomfort with bloodshed would be evidenced in a constant, public searching for a better alternative and a questioning of our own motives lest we find ourselves embodying the same conditional valuing of life that we denounce in our enemy.
Killing should be viewed as tragic, not glorious. We should recognize the terrifying fact that “the enemy” is human, just like us. The Civil War demonstrates clearly that enemies (soldiers and civilians) often have more in common than they realize. In some cases brothers found themselves battling one another. Just as their parents, one assumes, would have mourned any of their children’s deaths, whether the child fought for the Union or Confederacy, there is no difference in how the family of an innocent victim of a drone bomb and the family of a 9-11 victim feels. Likewise, the deaths of soldiers, in any war and on any side, are equally mourned by their loved ones. All of these deaths represent heart-breaking tragedies.
A by-product of the glorification of war and violence is that we cannot honestly reflect on the validity of our cause. A humanized enemy and a recognition that our rightness is not a given are incompatible with a celebration of violence and warfare. Therefore, we must assume that we are right and our enemy is evil.
When we recognize the tension between celebrating violence and respecting all people, including our own soldiers, we might ask difficult questions of ourselves. Have we been too comfortable sending our soldiers to risk their lives? Have we considered the aim of these people’s sacrifice? Have we, as a nation, made a concerted effort to reach out to our homeless and suffering veterans? When one considers the emotional scars our soldiers bring home, the PTSD, depression, substance abuse, and high rate of suicide, might there be further need to reflect on whether our societal attitude toward war and violence is healthy?
I believe we owe it to the men and women who have served in our military to honor their sacrifices. As a parent I can imagine no greater sacrifice than leaving one’s family (parents, spouse, or children) to go to a war zone. It should also go without saying that the courage to put one’s life and well-being on the line, as police officers, firefighters, and soldiers do, is a heroic quality.
Other societies have used the image of a warrior to model and promote right living rather than violence. In "Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior", Chӧgyam Trungpa, the Tibetan Buddhist Rinpoche (honored teacher), carefully uses “warriorship” to highlight human qualities that we should all strive for and that have the potential to create an enlightened society. He begins:
"The 'Shambhala' teachings are founded on the premise that there is basic human wisdom that can help to solve the world’s problems. This wisdom does not belong to any one culture or religion, nor does it come only from the West or the East. Rather, it is a tradition of human warriorship that has existed in many cultures at many times throughout history…
Warriorship here does not refer to making war on others. Aggression is the source of our problems, not the solution. Here the word 'warrior' is taken from the Tibetan 'pawo', which literally means 'one who is brave'. Warriorship in this context is the tradition of human bravery, or the tradition of fearlessness. The North American Indians had such a tradition, and it also existed in South American Indian societies. The Japanese ideal of the Samurai also represented a warrior tradition of wisdom, and there have been principles of enlightened warriorship in Western Christian societies as well. King Arthur is a legendary example of warriorship in the Western tradition, and great rulers in the Bible, such as King David, are examples of warriors common to both the Jewish and Christian traditions. On our planet earth there have been many fine examples of warriorship.
The Key to warriorship and the first principle of 'Shambhala' vision is not being afraid of who you are. Ultimately, that is the definition of bravery… 'Shambhala' vision is the opposite of selfishness. When we are afraid of ourselves and afraid of the seeming threat the world presents, then we become extremely selfish. We want to build our own little nests, our own cocoons, so that we can live by ourselves in a secure way.
But we can be much more brave than that. We must try to think beyond our homes, beyond the fire burning in the fireplace, beyond sending our children to school or getting to work in the morning. We must try to think how we can help this world. If we don’t help, nobody will. It is our turn to help the world."
Chӧgyam Trungpa offers a good starting point for identifying what in our soldiers we should celebrate and emulate. He also demonstrates the universal nature of these values. Trungpa’s passage brings to mind the story of the NFL player-turned-soldier, Pat Tillman. After the September 11th attack, Tillman and his brother “thought beyond their home and personal comfort.” They made a decision to respond with bravery, selflessness, a desire to help the world, and a recognition that it’s up to us to do something about problems we see. Certainly, a part of Pat Tillman’s response involved violence, and perhaps an “us and them” lens, but I would argue this was secondary and not the element that should be idealized to best serve our society. Instead, our society should commit itself, as Tillman did in leaving a lucrative career and putting his life on the line, to the journey toward selflessness and the courage that flows from that selflessness. We should follow Tillman’s example of a courageous commitment to search for and follow the truth as well. That commitment eventually led him to question and critique the war effort of which he was a part. A soldier, like anyone else, can only make a decision with the information that he or she has; therefore, the search for truth must be ongoing. We should recognize that our world needs thinking people, like the Tillmans, acting locally and globally to insure every person is treated with dignity. This is why Trungpa’s caution about not being focused on the threat the world presents is important. If our action is primarily rooted in a fear of threat, then we may overlook the humanity of the other because fear leads us to focus on ourselves and those who are a part of our group. This tendency is especially evident in the attitude toward refugees today. Millions of people are homeless and thousands have died trying to escape turmoil as a result of conflict in Syria, yet the attitude toward these vulnerable people prevalent among many Christian Americans seems to be more rooted in fear than compassion. That fear keeps us from living the values we pride ourselves on. While Americans celebrate the hospitality shown to the first pilgrims by Native Americans and American Christians recall the story of Holy Family fleeing to Egypt as Refugees, we accept a paltry number of refugees. The famous image of the drowned toddler on the shores of the Mediterranean should haunt every person of good will who subscribes to the golden rule and every follower of Jesus who said “I was a stranger and you didn’t welcome me… depart from me; I never knew you.” It should also wake us up to the need to overcome our fears and respond bravely to the suffering in our world — even if acting requires that we leave our comfortable cocoons and become vulnerable.
The soldier’s selflessness and courage are not the only characteristics that Trungpa identifies as critical. He proclaims:
"By simply being on the spot, your life can become workable and even wonderful. You realize that you are capable of sitting like a king or queen on a throne. The regalness of the situation shows you the dignity that comes from being still and simple."
Soldiers must be where they are. Soldiers must be attentive to the situation they are faced with; their lives depend on it. A soldier’s posture connotes dignity. That posture is reflective of attentiveness at the most basic level. Trungpa also identifies the warrior’s posture as significant:
"Having an upright back is not an artificial posture. It is natural to the human body. When you slouch, that is unusual. You can’t breathe properly when you slouch, and slouching is also a sign of giving in to neurosis. So when you sit erect, you are proclaiming to yourself, and the rest of the world that you are going to be a warrior, a fully human being."
When I hear about homelessness, substance abuse, PTSD, and suicide in our veterans, I wonder why these brave citizens find it difficult to carry themselves with the confidence and self-esteem that we associated with them as soldiers after they return from conflict. I suspect that, as a society, we significantly underestimate the traumatic nature of training for and resorting to violence.
Some people attribute the suffering of our veterans to the lack of “patriotic” appreciation when they return from service. As a country we have a responsibility to provide healthcare and financial support for our service people and their families, we ought to publicly recognize their sacrifices, and we should help them readjust to civilian life. However, it is problematic to attribute veteran suffering to a lack of patriotic support. The belief that the solutions to our veterans’ problems are more parades, halftime tributes, and America pins implies that the selflessness of our soldiers is confined to the battle field. If the core of our soldier’s identity is being about something bigger than themselves, then it is unlikely that they just need more affirmation.
Perhaps violence should be less central to our soldier’s ethos and their training. For some of our veterans, it seems, when the violence and fighting stop, their identities become uncertain. However, while the task of fighting has stopped, the essential and heroic struggle to live with courage, dignity, selflessness, and nobility is never-ending. These veterans have taken a bold first step down the path of selflessness. Trungpa points out that:
"In order to overcome selfishness, it is necessary to be daring… There is no insurance, but it is worthwhile jumping to find out what will happen. The student warrior has to jump. We are accustomed to accepting what is bad for us and rejecting what is good for us. We are attracted to our cocoons, our selfishness, and we are afraid of selflessness, stepping beyond ourselves."
Letting go of self-centeredness involves a leap of faith. When we think of a greater good or simply the good of someone else, there is no assurance that someone else will consider our well-being or appreciate us. The common path to fulfillment allows us to cling, to keep the training wheels on. It allows us to feel that we are still in control. Our “cocoons” represent those realities that provide us with security (self-centeredness, wealth, distractions, and honors). The truly free renounce security. They let go, which requires faith. Nelson Mandella let go by accepting his imprisonment. Martin Luther King, Jr., Rosa Parks, Dorothy Day, and Gandhi let go by adopting nonviolence. They realized that conversion could not be forced. At best, through actions and sacrifice, we can invite conversion to seeing and valuing the other. As a society this path toward selflessness needs to be fully honored, especially in ordinary living. Perhaps a person like Pat Tillman, who left the comfort and luxury of an NFL career, is well-situated to model the leap from our self-centered cocoons to a life of selflessness. Both our society and our soldiers need to recognize this journey as life’s ultimate and ongoing vocation.
DANGERS IN GLORIFYING THE SOLDIER
The mystique of violence can easily intrude on a grander vision. If this happens our soldiers will not come home realizing that they still have the noble task of growing as models of courage and selflessness, and our citizens will learn nothing from the generosity of these service people. Furthermore, if nations continue to embrace the mystique of violence, they may become even more violent and begin to affirm the values that promote violence: greed, fear, hatred, uncritical obedience, nationalism, and failure to see the other. Trungpa identifies many examples of societies using warriors to promote right living and the quest for virtue, but every one of those societies at times became militaristic, demonstrating that, if we are not vigilant, using the warrior as our ideal can lead to a societal comfort with and a celebration of violence and war.
Honoring soldiers is appropriate, but we must acknowledge the dangers in using soldiers as models of right-living. It is not a given that the selfless ethos is emphasized as the central element of being soldiers. If our soldiers are taught or encouraged to dehumanize the enemy, then they are not trained for clear seeing in the present or the future. Instead, they are taught to see through a lens of fear and judgment. If soldiers are led to believe their greatness stems from a superior ability to kill, how will this serve them when they return from war?
A movie about the life of United States veteran Chris Kyle was recently released. American Sniper evoked a polarizing response regarding how soldiers, in general, and Chris Kyle, specifically, should be viewed. In the debate it seemed he either must represent a hero or nothing at all. Without question he and his family embodied sacrifice, courage, and faithfulness, all of which are heroic qualities. However, if he is unequivocally viewed as a hero, we miss the opportunity to wrestle with our societal attitude toward war. Kyle seemingly viewed war as a good. This world view, which is not representative of the view of all service people, demands an enemy against whom we can prove ourselves. In a television interview Kyle explained:
If you’re out there, you definitely don’t want to be just sitting there. I mean same reason when I said I was lucky to be in combat. When you sign up, you sign up because you want to go to war. Or at least the SEALS, we do. We don’t sign up to go be the best just so we can sit at home, walk around the bars and say, Hey, look at me, I’ve got a trident on. I’m a SEAL. We do it because we want to go to war. And then when you go to war you don’t want to just sit there. I mean what’s the point of deploying if you’re just going to sit there? You want to actually do your job or bring me home.
I suspect the difference between Chӧgyam Trungpa’s warrior and Kyle’s understanding of a soldier is that the identity of Kyle’s soldier is rooted in war, whereas the identity of Trungpa’s warrior is geared toward mastery over self. Kyle’s response asks if there isn’t an enemy and a war, then what is a SEAL? Trungpa’s view is that we always must battle to be our best self. For Trungpa the most essential struggle is the ongoing battle with our egos. I suspect this is what Sun Tzu meant when he said “Victorious warriors win first,” perhaps by defeating their own egos, fears, resentments, and distorted perceptions, “then go to war; while defeated warriors go to war first then seek to win.”
The warrior ideal can also be problematic in other settings. In the aftermath of a series of high profile incidents involving police violence toward minorities throughout the United States, the Cleveland police chief observed that the police force needed to move away from a warrior mentality:
"Our officers have been trained to survive, to be prepared, to go out in our neighborhoods as if they are in the military. We want our officers to be safe and vigilant and able to protect our community and themselves. But we have changed that philosophy from being a warrior… to being a guardian."
If the police’s role is to “protect and serve,” there is a danger in a conventional warrior ethos. It can lead to an attitude of resentment and even demonization that promotes the sense of us and them rather than a sense of community service. Protecting and serving is most effective when all involved, civilian and police, view themselves as a part of one community and strive to see each other through a sympathetic lens. Undoubtedly, this is a challenge in certain areas where a legacy of injustice has caused much hurt to all of those involved. Police officers may feel that their service and sacrifice has not been appreciated and experience fear as their safety is unnecessarily compromised. Civilians may feel that the law and order that police have been tasked with upholding is an unjust one that does not serve them and view the police as complicit in a system of mass incarceration that has devastated their community. Additionally, they may be concerned that policing is often accompanied by unnecessary violence, which seemingly reflects resentment and prejudice toward those that the police are supposed to be serving. It is essential that we choose whether we will battle against each other or for a sense of community.
It is a concern that our society, not just our military, might be producing people who are desensitized to the horrors of violence and may even be comfortable going to war. One cannot be comfortable with war and be fully aware of our own soldiers or our enemy’s humanity. That our soldiers might fail to recognize the enemy’s humanity isn’t the ultimate problem. If some of our soldiers don’t see the enemy, then some of our leaders also may not see those they identify as enemies. There have been plenty of frightening people in our world’s history, but the most dangerous were those in leadership positions who were not reluctant to go to war. It is not a given that those in our government, who are responsible for deciding how our military will operate, will make good decisions. This consideration is even more critical in light of the power of special interests to impact government decisions and the profitability of war for numerous influential industries. One of my students pointed out that the “support our troops” mantra can be employed by decision-makers as a disingenuous tactic to prevent questioning our leaders’ war efforts, including policies that might not be serving our troops.
Unequivocal support for military action is problematic because everyone, including our troops, needs accountability. They are not perfect. Our soldiers are human and make mistakes that sometimes need to be rectified and acknowledged (i.e. the Abu Graib scandal). Politicians also can have distorted lenses. Politicians are often self-interested; in some ways their job depends on it. They also may have friendships and alliances with oppressors that lead to misperceptions. For example a former American vice-president, who was strongly in favor of going into Iraq after the September 11th attack, viewed Nelson Mandela as a terrorist and supported the racist apartheid regime by opposing the “Anti-Apartheid Act”. Should someone who saw evil in the desire to fight a racist and oppressive regime be blindly trusted to determine who the bad guys are? Certainly, our leaders, like all of us, can fall into the trap of making erroneous judgments regarding another society and promote actions based on that misperception. If we value our soldiers, we must be critical of those choosing to put them in harm’s way and remain vigilant lest those leaders’ judgments reflect a distorted lens.
Any idealization of soldiers must be tempered with the realization that unquestioning loyalty is often a dangerous quality. While it may have apparent value on the battlefield, it has no place in a truly free society. Unquestioning loyalty, like the assumption of rightness, is one of the reasons why societies filled with “good people” are, at times, responsible for injustice.