Last week, for the first time since 1991, the Pentagon permitted the news media to report on the grim “repatriation” of a member of the military, honoring Airman Staff Sergeant Phillip Myers, who was killed while fighting in Afghanistan.
It’s about time.
When former President George H.W. Bush authorized a ban on the media showing coffins of dead soldiers returning from overseas 18 years ago—this was during the Persian Gulf War—the official reason given for the ban was that it was a show of respect for the private grief of the families of military personnel.
It’s difficult to disagree with the idea that people should be allowed to mourn privately. If, of course, that is what they wish to do.
Not all do—in many instances, the families and loved ones of those members of the military killed while serving their country wanted to see some official public recognition of their sacrifice. The ban didn’t take these people’s wishes into account; instead it forbade any news coverage of all the tragic homecomings—which brings up some questions about the actual motivation behind the ban.
A far likelier reason for not wanting to show the coffins of people killed while participating in a controversial war is the real emotional impact this kind of imagery has on the people who see it. Much of the anti-war sentiment directed toward the U.S. involvement in Vietnam was a direct response to the fact that for the first time, people could watch what was happening on their televisions.
What they saw was tragic, and horrifying. It spurred debate and opposition, those activities and feelings antithetical to the patriotism found throughout the country in previous decades, in previous wars.
To avoid any doubt, I am, and always have been, adamantly opposed to the ongoing U.S. conflict in Iraq (and more recently the increase of troops in Afghanistan). I can say with certainty that I am far from unbiased on this subject.
My idea of an appropriate way to honor the members of the military involves not sending them to kill or to die horrible, violent deaths (for reasons nowhere near compelling enough) in the first place. This would, in turn, honor their families by not giving them any reason to grieve.
That, unfortunately, is wishful thinking—and wishful thinking that not everyone agrees with. In reality, thousands are already dead, and maybe hundreds or thousands more may be in line to return home in a box draped with the American flag. I think it’s imperative that these boxes not remain hidden from view any longer.
Whether you are for or against this (or any other) war, whether or not it has personally affected you or someone you know first-hand, it seems as though we might all agree on one thing.
Barring the objection of individual families, it is incredibly important that the loss of life suffered in war be recognized in real terms, in human terms—and that the people who died because of the war be acknowledged—not as one of the “troops” who have been deactivated, and not as a number that makes up a larger set of statistics.
Hiding those who have lost their lives from public view, when it could be enlightening as to inform, to grieve, and to contemplate and question the motives behind the war, seems as though the government is conceding it was a mistake to ship American soldiers across the globe to die in the first place, and in recognizing that error, trying to cover up the evidence to avoid a slap on the wrist (or an outcry, a protest, anything in opposition to the war) from the American people.
These were real people who deserve a lot more than to be smuggled home in secret, in an attempt to hide what we’re really paying for the war with.