Abstract
Our nation reveres our armed forces. Our founding narrative, democratic norms, republican traditions, and our status as a beacon of hope for others around the world all derive from the role our armed forces have played in the formation of our nation and its identity. The narrative is underpinned by a constant belief in the perpetual unselfishness of our troops and their willingness to answer the call to service in moments of turmoil. Our nation, it appears, owes them a perpetual sense of gratitude.
Displays of this admiration are omnipresent. On any given Sunday, as football teams prepare to take the field, as politicians engage in debate, and in commercials offering a range of products, discounts, and hiring preferences for veterans, a nod to our troops is perfunctory, intentional, and strategically designed. A recent survey found that these patriotic and marketing strategies are well placed. Americans have consistently expressed higher confidence and trust in our armed forces than any other institution in our nation.
However, love affairs, as is often the case, are complicated. In this case, our nation's reverence for the military is no different.
Suzanne Gordon, Steve Early, and Jasper Craven, in their new book Our Veterans: Winners, Losers, Friends, and Enemies on the New Terrain of Veterans Affairs, utilize this inherent tension to illustrate the fact that the patriotic messaging embedded in much of the pomp and circumstance that characterizes our salute to veterans is often devoid of actual substance and is performative. They further argue that these gestures often conceal an agenda aimed at maintaining a status quo that runs counter to the best interests of veterans and is ultimately unpatriotic.
It is never easy to question perceived patriotism nor highlight the manner in which our collective words have not matched our actions. If one truly values the service of the men and women who have served our nation they will speak truth to power, be transparent, and advocate for a patriotism that is aimed at ensuring their care both during and after their service to our nation.
That is why Our Veterans is such a welcome addition to the conversation about who fights our wars, the contradictions of our patriotism, and how the most poignant dangers facing our veterans can sometimes be found at home, far away from foreign theaters of war.
Our words have not matched our deeds. Our Veterans illustrates how our service men and women are often required to work in dangerous conditions unrelated to enemy action, subjected to systematic racial and sexual harassment and abuse, denied access to health care via Veterans Affairs, and offered little support in their effort to readjust to civilian life after their service is complete.
How do we ask tough questions about the manner in which our nation has systematically failed our veterans without being labeled unpatriotic? How do we hold our elected leaders accountable and to be attuned to the care our soldiers need after their service? Perhaps most importantly, how can we say what we mean and do what we say when it comes to caring and truly honoring the men and women who have given so much to our nation via military service?
All volunteer isn't really all volunteer: Despite becoming an all‐volunteer force in 1973, the majority of U.S. military recruits are motivated by economic incentives just as much as any ideals of patriotism. A steady paycheck, job training, and access to health care are all difficult benefits to acquire in the private sector after high school. Demographic shifts since 1973 have also changed the racial composition and expanded the role of women in uniform. Women, African Americans, Latinos, and noncitizens can now be found in significant numbers across all branches of the armed forces. To this point, the first casualties of the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq in 2003 were noncitizen Latinos.
Despite these shifting demographics, Our Veterans illustrates, the military remains a toxic place of employment where instances of sexual and racial discrimination are prevalent, where soldiers are subjected to dangerous working conditions and afforded little to no process to address these issues. Our Veterans shares how, after 9/11, soldiers sent to newly created bases in the Middle East were exposed to open‐air burn pits that burned thousands of tons of toxic material. These bonfires violated not only Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) air quality standards but also the Pentagon's own regulations. Soldiers exposed to this mixture of smoke and ash shared that their only periods of respite occurred when “high-ranking generals or politicians came to visit their bases.”
In a similar vein, many female veterans, who now represent ten percent of the veteran population, have been left traumatized by their service to our nation. Our Veterans argues that in addition to being subject to a pervasive culture of sexual harassment and violence, women veterans have lower incomes after their service has ended and are more likely to live in poverty and qualify for food stamps.
Race and gender . . . still matter: Since 9/11, our military has come to increasingly rely on Latino recruits, including those who are noncitizen “Green Card” holders, to help meet enlistment quotas. Our Veterans elucidates how their increased presence has generated a “great deal of racist language directed toward immigrant soldiers and African Americans.” These harangues, moreover, have also included references toward soldiers who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender (LGBT). There has also been growing evidence that military service has radicalized white service members and facilitated their engagement with anti‐government and white supremacist hate groups.
The VA, access to care, and fake news: Between 2006 and 2015, the number of veterans requiring VA-provided mental health care rose from 900,000 annually to 1.6 million. Our Veterans argues that this increase “reflects the ongoing collateral damage from ‘forever wars.’” In 2016, as Donald Trump campaigned for the White House, he disparaged dead soldiers as “suckers” and “losers.” Despite this, veterans played a key role in his electoral college win over Hillary Clinton. President Trump then pledged to make the “VA Great Again.” Pointing to the inability of the VA to provide adequate treatment for veterans, President Trump supported legislation that took money out of the VA's budget and allocated it to outside providers “of unproven ability to treat the complex mental health problems veterans were facing” after their service.
The authors make clear that the charge of being unpatriotic is a small price to pay in defense of genuine veteran advocacy. They further argue that dismantling the propaganda machine that falsely celebrates veterans while also enacting policies that are detrimental to their best interests be exposed and consistently subjected to critique. This work entails the development of more transparent and equitable processes and systems that are designed to enhance advocacy and address transgressions.
What about deported veterans? Our Veterans is ahead of the curve when it highlights the hostile experiences women and people of color can face while enlisted and how these experiences condition their quality of life after their service is complete. What about the veterans our nation deports? Since the U.S.-led invasion of Iraq in 2003, when our armed forces began to increasingly rely on noncitizen soldiers, many “Green Card” holders have served, returned to civilian life, and ended up banned from the nation they served. The fact that our nation forcibly removes veterans who we collectively claim to honor should generate more interest. I am puzzled that this was not discussed in any detail, for this policy failure fits very much into the larger narrative articulated in the book. Many Americans are unaware that our armed forces recruit noncitizens and that they have forcibly banished veterans from the nation they served. This continued injustice needs to be highlighted, researched, and adjudicated, not neglected.
Last few words: Our Veterans is refreshingly unapologetic in its advocacy for the men and women who have served our nation. The book also fills a considerable void in the sociological literature by skillfully intertwining veteran policy analysis with questions that are specific to race, class, and gender in our armed forces. Much has been written about these changing demographics, but little has been said about how these categories are mediated, complicated, and sometimes undervalued within the confines of our all‐volunteer military. Our Veterans is also one of the few efforts that hitches the aspect of performative patriotism to intentional efforts to misinform and manipulate veterans into accepting and embracing policies that are determinantal to their best interests.