Old-style American isolationism had everything to do with avoiding
“entangling alliances” and conflicts abroad. It was tied to America’s
historic tradition of rejecting a large standing army -- a tradition in
which many Americans took pride. Yes, we signed on to World War I in
1917, but only after we had been “too proud to fight.” Even when we
joined, we did so as a non-aligned power with the goal of ending major
wars altogether. Before Pearl Harbor in December 1941, Americans again
resisted the call to arms, looking upon Hitler’s rise and other
unnerving events in Europe and Asia with alarm, but with little
eagerness to send American boys into yet another global bloodbath.
In the decades since World War II, however, “isolationism” has been
turned inside-out and upside-down. Instead of seeking eternal peace,
Washington elites have, by now, plunged the country into a state of
eternal war, and they’ve done so, in part, by isolating ordinary
Americans from war’s brutal realities.
Tomgram: William Astore, The Face of War (Don't Look!)
[Note for TomDispatch readers: For
the last year or so, Timothy MacBain -- with one of the great soothing
voices around -- has been producing top-notch audio interviews with
TomDispatch authors at a rate of one or two per week. Today, TD is
posting his latest interview, with retired Lt. Col. William Astore on
what it felt like to come out of the military and learn how to write
honestly about wars. You can hear it by clicking here or download it to your iPod, here.
I just wanted to remind TomDispatch readers that, given MacBain’s
growing archive of your favorite TD writers, you can be listeners here,
too. Don’t miss a chance to check out the Astore interview and others.
They’re special.
By the way, one small note: In
response to a reader in Japan, we’ve added the icon for the Japanese
Amazon store to those for the U.S., British, and Canadian ones -- and in
the process I’m just reminding TD readers that, if you’re going to
Amazon anyway, why not do it through any book link at this site or any
of those icons? (To find them, look to the right of the main screen and
scroll down.) We get a small cut of your purchase at no extra cost to
you and it does add up! It’s a nice way to contribute regularly! Tom]
You’d think that people always seeking “lessons” from war would draw one from our latest wonder weapon,
which fights our wars for us without an American in sight. I’m
talking, of course, about the drone aircraft that have, in recent years,
become a signature form of American war-making. They represent truly
advanced technology, with ever newer generations of them in production
and on the drawing boards, ones that might some distant day be able to
fight actual Terminator wars more or less on their own.
The drones already in the skies over the Pakistani borderlands,
Afghanistan, Iraq, Somalia, Yemen, and perhaps other zones of conflict
are now celebrated in Washington for their special “precision” in taking
out enemies. Like all such weapons, however, they look so much more
precise to those using them than to those on whom they are being used.
They are also only as good as the intelligence that sends the missiles
and bombs towards targets on the ground, which means that such weaponry
will always, repetitively, kill
innocent civilians (and sometimes only them). Don’t be fooled by the
stories that invariably describe the latest drone attack as taking out
so many “suspected militants.” It ain’t necessarily so.
Our precision weapons look different indeed if you happen to be under them, as the headline of
a recent Reuters article makes clear: “Drones spur Yemenis' distrust of
government and U.S.” Yes, Virginia, ever since the underwear bomber
headed from Yemen Detroit-wards and threw this country into a paroxysm of fear,
your advanced weapons systems have been buzzing the skies of that
country and evidently firing missiles as well. “Suspected militants”
have died, but so have civilians. ("Now children and women are terrified
and can't sleep... people are haunted. They expect the next strike to
hit the innocent and not the fugitives...") While enemies are certainly
being assassinated, enemies -- undoubtedly more of them -- are being
created. And as retired Air Force lieutenant colonel and TomDispatch regular William
Astore points out, Americans know next to nothing about all of this.
We are generally as cosseted from our wars -- and the world they are
helping to create -- as the pilots who fly such aircraft from Langley,
Virginia, or Creech Air Force Base, Nevada, “warriors” whose most
dangerous moments are caught in an on-base sign that warns pilots
at Creech to “drive carefully” on leaving after a work shift “in”
Afghanistan or Iraq. This, it says, is “the most dangerous part of your
day.”
There are lessons to be learned from all of this, but not by
Americans, not right now anyway. When Astore focuses on how isolated we
are from the wars Washington fights in our name, he’s on to something
deep and degrading. It should be a lesson to us all. Tom
The New American Isolationism: The Cost of
Turning Away from War’s Horrific Realities
by William J. Astore
With rare exceptions (notably
John F. Kennedy’s
call
for young Americans to pay any price and bear any burden), our elites
have not sought to mobilize a new “greatest generation,” but rather to
keep a clueless one -- clueless, that is, as to war’s fatal costs and
bitter realities -- unmobilized (if not immobilized).
Such national obliviousness has not gone unnoticed. In a recent New York Times op-ed
headlined “The Wars that America Forgot About,” former NBC news anchor
Tom Brokaw asked the obvious question: Why, in an otherwise contentious
political season, have our wars gone so utterly undebated?
His answers -- that we’re in a recession in which people have more
pressing concerns, and that we’ve restricted the burdens of war to a
tiny minority -- are sensible, but don’t go quite far enough. It’s
important to add that few Americans are debating, or even discussing,
our wars in part because our ruling elites haven’t wanted them debated
-- as if they don’t want us to get the idea that we have any say in
war-making at all.
Think of it this way: the old isolationism was a peaceable urge basic
to the American people; the new isolationism is little short of a
government program to keep the old isolationism, or opposition of any
sort to American wars, in check.
Americans Express Skepticism about War… So?
When you’re kept isolated from war’s costs, it’s nearly impossible to
mount an effective opposition to them. While our elites, remembering
the Vietnam years, may have sought to remove U.S. public opinion from
the enemy’s target list, they have also worked hard to remove the public
as a constraint on their war-making powers. Recall former Vice
President Dick Cheney’s dismissive
“So?” when asked about opinion polls showing declining public support
for the Iraq War in 2008. So what if the American people are uneasy?
The elites can always call on a professional, non-draft military, augmented by
hordes of privatized hire-a-gun outfits, themselves so isolated from
society at large that they’ve almost become the equivalent of foreign legionnaires. These same elites encourage us to “support our troops,” but otherwise to look away.
Mainstream media coverage of our wars has only added to the cocoon created by the new isolationism. After all, it rarely addresses the full costs of those conflicts to U.S. troops (including their redeployment
to war zones, even when already traumatized), let alone to foreign
non-combatants in faraway Muslim lands. When such civilians are killed,
their deaths tend to take place under the media radar. “If it bleeds,
it doesn’t lead,” could be a news motto for much of recent war coverage,
especially if the bleeding is done by civilians.
Only the recent release of classified documents
and videos by WikiLeaks, for instance, has forced our media to bring
the mind-numbing body count we’ve amassed in Iraq out of the closet. If
nothing else, WikiLeaks has succeeded in reminding us of the impact of
our vastly superior firepower, as in a now infamous video of an Apache
helicopter gunship firing
on non-combatants in the streets of Baghdad. Such footage is, of
course, all-too-personal, all-too-real. Small wonder it was shown in a censored form on CNN.
Where’s the benefit, after all, for corporate-owned media in
showcasing others’ terror and pain, especially if it’s inflicted by “America’s hometown heroes”? Our regular export of large-scale violence (including a thriving trade in the potential for violence via our hammerlock on the global arms trade) is not something Americans or the American media have cared to scrutinize.
To cite two more willful blind spots: Can the average American say
roughly how many Iraqis were killed or wounded in our “liberation” of
their country and the mayhem that followed? In mid-October, U.S.
Central Command quietly released
a distinctly lowball estimate of 200,000 Iraqi casualties (including
77,000 killed) from January 2004 to August 2008. That estimate (lower
by 30,000 than the one compiled by official Iraqi sources) did not
include casualties from major combat operations in 2003, nor of course
did it have any place for the millions of refugees driven from their
homes in the sectarian violence that followed. The recent WikiLeaks
document dump on Iraq held at least another 15,000 unacknowledged Iraqi dead, and serious studies of the casualty toll often suggest the real numbers are hundreds of thousands higher.
Or how about the attitudes of those living in parts of Pakistan and Afghanistan subject to the recent upsurge of U.S. drone strikes? Given the way our robotic wars are written about here, could most Americans imagine what it feels like to be on the receiving end of Zeus-like lightning bolts?
Here’s what one farmer in North Waziristan in the Pakistani tribal borderlands had to say:
“I blame the government of Pakistan and the USA… they are responsible
for destroying my family. We were living a happy life and I didn’t have
any links with the Taliban. My family members were innocent… I wonder,
why was I victimized?”
Would an American farmer wonder anything different? Would he not seek vengeance
if errant missiles obliterated his family? It’s hard, however, for
Americans to grasp the nature of the wars being fought in their name, no
less to express sympathy for their victims when they are kept in a
state of striking isolation from war’s horrors.
Analgesic War
Once upon a time, America’s Global War on Terror was an analgesic.
Recall those “shock and awe” images of explosions that marked the
opening days of Iraqi combat operations in 2003. Recall as well all the
colorful maps, the glamorous weapons systems, and the glowering faces
of Osama bin Laden and Saddam Hussein interpreted and explained to us on
our TV screens by retired U.S. military officers
in mufti. In this curiously sanitized version of war, weapons and
other military arcana were to serve to ease our pain at the tragedy we
had suffered on 9/11, while obscuring the “towers” of dead we were
creating in other lands.
In fostering analgesic war and insisting on information control, our
elites have, yet again, drawn a mistaken lesson from the Vietnam War.
In Vietnam, even if it took years, free-to-roam and often skeptical
reporters finally began to question the official story of the war.
Violent images came home to roost in American living rooms at
dinnertime. Such coverage may not have stopped the killing, at least
not right away, but it did contribute to a gutsy antiwar movement, as
well as to a restive “silent majority” that increasingly rejected
official rhetoric of falling dominoes and lights at the end of tunnels.
Iraq and Afghanistan, by way of contrast, have been characterized by
embedded (mostly cheerleading) reporters and banal images of U.S. troops
on patrol or firing weapons at unseen targets. Clear admissions that
our firepower-intensive form of warfare leads to the violent deaths of
many more of “them” than of “us” -- and that many of them
aren’t, by any stretch of the imagination, our enemies -- are seldom
forthcoming. (An exception was former Afghan war commander General
Stanley McChrystal’s uncommonly harsh assessment of checkpoint
casualties: "We've shot an amazing number of people and killed a number
and, to my knowledge, none has proven to have been a real threat to the
force.")
“We don’t do body counts on other people,” said
a cocky Donald Rumsfeld late in 2003 and, even though it wasn’t true
(the Pentagon just kept its body counts to itself), an obliging Pentagon
press corps generally fell into line and generally stayed there long
after our new wars had lost their feel-good sheen. Clearly, military
and political elites learned it’s better (for them, at least) to keep
vivid images of death and destruction off America’s screens.
Ironically, even as Americans seek more lifelike and visceral
representations from ever bigger, brighter, high-def TVs, war is
presented in carefully sanitized low-def form, largely drained of blood
and violence.
The result? Uncomfortable questions about our wars rarely get asked,
let alone aired. A boon to those who want to continue those wars
unmolested by public opposition, even if a bust when it comes to
pursuing a sensible global strategy that’s truly in the national
interest. In seeking to isolate the public from any sense of
significant sacrifice, active participation in, or even understanding of
America’s wars, these same elites have ensured that the conflicts they
pursued would be strategically unsound and morally untenable.
Today, Americans are again an isolationist people, but with a twist.
Even as we expand our military bases overseas and spend trillions on
national security and wars, we’ve isolated ourselves from war’s
passions, its savagery, its heartrending sacrifices. Such isolation
comforts some and seemingly allows others free rein to act as they wish,
but it’s a false comfort, a false freedom, purchased at the price of
prolonging our wars, increasing their casualties, abridging our
freedoms, and eroding our country’s standing in the world.
To end our wars, we must first endure their Gorgon stare.
William J. Astore, a retired lieutenant colonel (USAF), is a TomDispatch regular.
His books and articles focus mainly on the military, technology, and
society. Listen to a Timothy MacBain TomDispatch audio interview with Astore on what it felt like to come out of the military and learn how to write honestly about wars by clicking here or download it to your iPod, here.
He welcomes reader comments at wjastore@gmail.com.
Copyright 2010 William J. Astore
