Investing in Moral Repair, Part 1, by Ross Caputi*

I read Nancy Sherman’s book Afterwar: Healing the Moral Wounds of Our Soldiers (2015) as a veteran of the US-led occupation of Iraq and as a board-member of the Islah Reparations Project. The intuitive answer to my own moral injury was to bring reparations to the people I helped hurt, and that has been my life for the past decade. For that reason, Nancy Sherman’s notion of “moral repair”—“repair” being the root word in “reparations”—was immediately attractive to me.

Lieutenant General (Dr.) James M. Dubik notes in the foreword that one of this book’s most important contributions is an expansion of our understanding of the jus post bellum beyond discussions of ending war justly.

Drawing on her background in ancient philosophy, particularly the stoics, and her training in psychoanalysis, Sherman describes for us with impressive clarity the emotional worlds of veterans and all the what-ifs and should-haves that anguish them. She then makes a persuasive case for extending our notion of post war responsibility from being the task of government to the duty of individual citizens, assigning them an essential role in the healing process of our veterans.

Sherman advances two main arguments in this book: That civilians have a responsibility to veterans, a responsibility that is grounded in their causal contribution to starting and facilitating war—through voting, paying taxes, participating in public debate, and lobbying—and, hence, to sending our armed service members into harms way. And that moral injury is a poorly understood, under-treated condition that veterans suffer from upon returning home. The conclusion is that civilians have a responsibility to engage with veterans upon their return, because veterans need a sympathetic and dependable community to return to. Sherman sees her book as a convocation, as “a manifesto for how to engage in moral repair, one on one, with individual service members and veterans so that we can begin to build a new kind of integrated community” (19).

She believes that two main obstacles are preventing the sort of communion between civilians and veterans that she advocates. The first is the “gaping disconnect between those who wear the uniform and those who don’t” (18). And the second is shallow gratitude, which is expressed most clearly in the ritualistic “Thank you for your service.” The “military-civilian gap” refers to what active duty service members and veterans perceive as the relative normality of civilian life during war time, and the lack of understanding amongst the general population of what veterans have experienced abroad (29). However, there are several scholars who argue for the opposite, that civilian life is being increasingly militarized. One such argument comes from Nick Turse in his The Complex: How the Military Invades Our Everyday Lives (2008). But Sherman takes it on assumption that there is in fact a military-civilian gap without arguing for it or addressing the arguments against it.

*This review by Engaging Peace Board member Ross Caputi is reprinted from the American Book Review, Volume 36, Number 5, July/August 2015.

Ross is currently on the Board of Directors of ISLAH. He is also a graduate student and a writer. In 2004, he was a US Marine in the US-led occupation of Iraq. His experience there, in particular his experience during the 2nd siege of Fallujah, compelled him to leave the US military and join the anti-war movement. His activism has focused on our society’s moral obligation to our victims in Iraq, and to the responsibility of veterans to renounce their hero status in America.

Is the military-industrial complex striking again?

Wikimedia and countless other sources will tell you that Armistice Day was established on November 11 to commemorate the armistice signed between the Allies and Germany at Compiègne, France, to cease hostilities on the Western Front in World War I. The end of that blood bath was a worthy cause for celebration, as would be any genuine armistice or peace agreement.

Many of the Allies declared the date a national holiday to honor servicemen who died in the war. Following World War II, the United States changed the name of the holiday to honor veterans of all its wars. And here we are in 2015 about to “honor” our veterans again.

So, I ask you, What the heck does that mean? What does it mean to “honor” our veterans? Clearly it means to hold parades and try to get some uniformed veterans to march in them. Perhaps those particular veterans marching in those parades feel honored. Or at least vindicated for their role in any violence perpetrated in the name of their country.

And I ask you, who gains what from the parades and the hype about honoring veterans? Do the celebrations serve in any meaningful way to make the lives of  veterans better? Do commemorations get the homeless veterans off the streets and into housing? Do they provide job training programs, adequate medical care, psychological treatment? Do they relieve PTSD? If our country truly wanted to honor veterans, wouldn’t it treat them better? 

Or are the Veteran’s Day parades and ceremonies largely just another media event, a form of propaganda in service of that false god, patriotism?  Are they also, moreover, a recruitment device, an enticement offered to young men and women, particularly in cities jammed full of unemployed and underemployed people, to convince them that it is honorable to join in whatever armed conflicts the government decides will serve its agenda in the next generations? And can’t we do better than that for both the veterans and the civilians in this country?

Kathie Malley-Morrison, Professor of Psychology

Let’s face it, these guys get a lot of handouts. Part 1.

A Black Lives Matter protest of police brutality in the rotunda of the Mall of America in Bloomington.
Image by Nicholas Upton [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons.
Of course nobody wants to talk about this. At least most white people don’t. It’s sort of like admitting to some shameful disease you don’t want anyone to know you have. Or worse, it’s like admitting maybe you don’t deserve the great prize you got or even some of the little bitty ones that cost you so much time and effort.

The great prize for most white people (although some of them have a lot more of it than others) is white privilege—what Peggy McIntosh  identifies as “an invisible package of unearned assets that I can count on cashing in each day….”

Dr. McIntosh sees the resistance of most white people to the very idea of white privilege as similar to the resistance of many men to the suggestion that they have an advantage over women solely because of their sex, not because of any inherent superiority.

McIntosh shares her own journey to awareness of white privilege: “I began to count the ways in which I enjoy unearned skin privilege and have been conditioned into oblivion about its existence, unable to see that it put me ‘ahead’ in any way, or put my people ahead, overrewarding us and yet also paradoxically damaging us….”

To illustrate the advantages she can take for granted as a white person, she lists 46 privileges, including:

* “I can swear, or dress in secondhand clothes, or not answer letters, without having people attribute these choices to the bad morals, the poverty, or the illiteracy of my race.

* If a traffic cop pulls me over or if the IRS audits my tax return, I can be sure I haven’t been singled out because of my race.

* I can do well in a challenging situation without being called a credit to my race.”

No matter how good, honest, trustworthy, or deserving they may be, there are millions of people of color for whom these commonalities are not true, for no reasons other than the color of their skin and the racism degrading all of us.

Kathie Malley-Morrison, Professor of Psychology