According to the New York Times, suicides
in the U.S. Army this January alone could
total as many as 24. (For January 2008, the number was five.) If so, that
would not only be the highest monthly total since the Army started keeping
such figures in 1980, but more deaths than occurred in Iraq and Afghanistan
combined that month. In 2008 as a whole, at least 128 soldiers killed themselves.
As the Times noted, "Suicides … rose for the fourth year in a row, reaching
the highest level in nearly three decades. Army officials say the stress of
long deployments to war zones plays a role in the increase."
Mark Benjamin and Michael de Yoanna, who have just completed a major multi-part
examination of Army suicides at Salon.com, record this official reaction
to the military health crisis: "'Why do the numbers keep going up?' Army Secretary
Pete Geren said at a Pentagon news conference Jan. 29. 'We can't tell you.'
The Army announced a $50 million study to figure it out." The two reporters
find a wealth of evidence of military misdiagnosis, mistreatment, and plain,
outright lack of desire to face a plague of suicides. ("At Fort Carson," the
base they studied, "a mental problem from combat is still a scarlet letter.")
But above all, of course, there are simply those endlessly repeated tours
of duty in the Afghan and Iraq war zones. Suicides, in this sense, can be thought
of as the individual symptoms of a larger military disease. In these last years,
the U.S. military has been, like the individuals who committed suicide, overstrained,
overstressed, and made to fight wars that consumed America's treasure, while
becoming ever more unpopular at home. As retired Air Force lieutenant colonel
and TomDispatch regular William Astore points out below, despite all the lovely
"support our troops" sentiments in the U.S., the military was essentially abandoned
to its stresses abroad and so became, in practical terms, ever more "foreign"
While the Army struggles, not particularly effectively, to deal with its suicide
problem, political and military leaders struggle no less unimpressively to
deal with the larger problems of military stress. Their unanimous solution
to the global policy version of post-traumatic stress disorder: Cut down on
those tours of duty and repair the military by significantly expanding U.S.
forces. The obvious response, the one that could bring the military back to
a state of health, is of course roundly ignored: Downsize the global mission.
Bring American troops home. Tom
An American Foreign Legion
Is the U.S. military now an imperial police force?
by William Astore
A leaner, meaner, higher tech force – that was
what George W. Bush and his Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld promised to
transform the American military into. Instead, they came close to turning it
into a foreign legion. Foreign as in being constantly deployed overseas on
imperial errands; foreign as in being ever more reliant on private military
contractors; foreign as in being increasingly segregated from the elites that
profit most from its actions, yet serve the least in its ranks.
Now would be a good time for President Barack Obama and Secretary of Defense
Robert Gates to begin to reclaim that military for its proper purpose: to
support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies,
foreign and domestic. Now would be a good time to ask exactly why, and for
whom, our troops are currently fighting and dying in the urban jungles of
Iraq and the hostile hills of Afghanistan.
A few fortnights and forever ago, in the Bush years, our "expeditionary"
military came remarkably close to resembling an updated version of the French
Foreign Legion in the ways it was conceived and used by those in power –
and even, to some extent, in its makeup.
For the metropolitan French elite of an earlier era, the Foreign Legion
– best known to Americans from countless old action films – was an assemblage
of military adventurers and rootless romantics, volunteers willing to man
an army fighting colonial wars in far-flung places. Those wars served the
narrow interests of people who weren't particularly concerned about the fate
of the legion itself.
It's easy enough to imagine one of them saying, à
la Rumsfeld, "You go to war with the legion you have, not the legion
you might want or wish to have." Such a blithe statement would have been
uncontroversial back then, since the French Foreign Legion was – well – so
foreign. Its members, recruited worldwide, but especially from French
colonial possessions, were considered expendable, a fate captured in its
grim, sardonic motto: "You joined the Legion to die. The Legion will send
you where you can die!"
Looking back on the last eight years, what's remarkable is the degree to which
Rumsfeld and others in the Bush administration treated the U.S. military in
a similarly dismissive manner. Bullying his generals and ignoring their concerns,
the secretary of defense even dismissed the vulnerability of the troops in
Iraq, who, in the early years, motored about in inadequately armored Humvees
and other thin-skinned vehicles.
Last year, Vice President Dick Cheney offered another Legionnaire-worthy
version of such dismissiveness. Informed that most Americans no longer supported
the war in Iraq, he infamously and succinctly countered,
"So?" – as if the U.S. military weren't the American people's instrument,
but his own private army, fed and supplied by private contractor KBR, the
former Halliburton subsidiary whose former CEO was the very same Dick Cheney.
Fond of posing in flight suits, leather jackets, and related pseudo-military
gear, President Bush might, on the other hand, have seemed overly invested
in the military. Certainly, his tough war talk resonated within conservative
circles, and he visibly relished speaking before masses of hooah-ing
soldiers. Too often, however, Bush simply used them as patriotic props, while
his administration did its best to hide
their deaths from public view.
In that way, he and his top officials made our troops into foreigners, in
part by making their ultimate sacrifice, their deaths, as foreign to us as
was humanly possible. Put another way, his administration made the very idea
of national "sacrifice" – by anyone but our troops – foreign to most Americans.
In response to the 9/11 attacks, Americans were, as the president famously
suggested only 16 days after the attacks, to show their grit by visiting Disney
World and shopping till they dropped. Military service instills (and thrives
on) an ethic of sacrifice that was, for more than seven years, consciously
As the Obama administration begins to deploy U.S. troops back to the Iraq
or Afghan war zones for their fourth or fifth tours of duty, I remain amazed
at the silent complicity of my country. Why have we been so quiet? Is it
because the Bush administration was, in fact, successful in sending our military
down the path to foreign legion-hood? Is the fate of our troops no longer
of much importance to most Americans?
Even the military's recruitment and demographics are increasingly alien
to much of the country. Troops are now regularly recruited in "foreign" places
like South Central Los Angeles and Appalachia that more affluent Americans
wouldn't be caught dead visiting. In some cases, those new recruits are quite
literally "foreign" – non-U.S.
citizens allowed to seek a fast-track to citizenship by volunteering
for frontline, war-zone duty in the U.S. Army or Marines. And when, in these
last years, the military has fallen short of its recruitment goals – less
likely today thanks
to the ongoing economic meltdown – mercenaries have simply been hired
at inflated prices
from civilian contractors with names like Triple Canopy or Blackwater redolent
of foreign adventures.
With respect to demographics, it'll take more than the sons of Joe Biden
and Sarah Palin to redress inequities in burden-sharing. With startlingly
few exceptions, America's sons and daughters dodging bullets remain the progeny
of rural America, of immigrant America, of the working and lower middle classes.
As long as our so-called best and brightest continue to be AWOL when it comes
to serving among the rank-and-file, count on our foreign adventurism to continue
Diversity is now our societal byword. But how about more class diversity
in our military? How about a combat regiment of rich young volunteers from
uptown Manhattan? (After all, some of their great-grandfathers probably fought
with New York's famed "Silk Stocking" regiment in World War I.) How about
more Ivy League recruits like George H.W. Bush and John F. Kennedy, who respectively
piloted a dive bomber and a PT boat in World War II? Heck, why not a few
prominent Hollywood actors like Jimmy Stewart, who piloted heavy bombers
in the flak-filled skies of Europe in that same war?
Instead of collective patriotic sacrifice, however, it's clear that the
military will now be running the equivalent of a poverty
and recession "draft" to fill the "all-volunteer" military. Those without
jobs or down on their luck in terrible times will have the singular honor
of fighting our future wars. Who would deny that drawing such recruits from
dead-end situations in the hinterlands or central cities is strikingly Foreign
Caught in the shock and awe of 9/11, we allowed our military to be transformed
into a neocon imperial police force. Now, approaching our eighth year in
Afghanistan and sixth year in Iraq, what exactly is that force defending?
Before President Obama acts to double the number of American boots-on-the-ground
in Afghanistan – before even more of our troops are sucked deeper into yet
another quagmire – shouldn't we ask this question with renewed urgency? Shouldn't
we wonder just why, despite all the reverent words about "our troops," we
really seem to care so little about sending them back into the wilderness
again and again?
Where indeed is the outcry?
The French Foreign Legionnaires knew better than to expect such an outcry:
The elites for whom they fought didn't give a damn about what happened to
them. Our military may not yet be a foreign legion – but don't fool yourself,
it's getting there.
William J. Astore, a retired lieutenant colonel (USAF), taught for six
years at the Air Force Academy. He currently teaches at the Pennsylvania College
of Technology. A TomDispatch regular, he is the author of Hindenburg:
Icon of German Militarism (Potomac Press, 2005), among other works.
He may be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Copyright 2009 William Astore