Courage comes more easily when others assume risk
When the closest you've ever come to a recruiting office is getting your hair cut two doors down in the same strip mall, deciding whether to support a war requires a particularly thorough examination of one's conscience.
Or at least it should.
When you don't really have anything at stake -- the way military families have everything at stake -- it seems far too easy to sit on your sofa, perhaps watch a few episodes of "Hannity & Colmes," and then decide that "bringing liberty to the Iraqi people" is worth it.
Because war is not a theoretical discussion, or an academic discourse, or a battle of talking points, or a debate for the purposes of entertaining ourselves. Not when people are dying. And taking a position about this war based on something as superficial as party affiliation, or liking one candidate's personality more than the other, or liking one candidate's wife more than the other, borders on immorality.
If you've never sacrificed in the way those in the military sacrifice, or the way their families sacrifice, it seems especially important to resolve one fundamental question before taking a position in support of the war: Would you believe in it just the same if it were your son or daughter, or brother or sister, carrying out the mission in Iraq?
Some people manage to unburden themselves of this difficult question by arguing that our military is made up of volunteers, and that every single one of them has chosen to join. While that is true, the vast majority of those who serve are not Pat Tillman. They didn't walk away from millions of dollars, and they didn't join with the specific intent of going off to fight the enemy.
Far more are like Jessica Lynch, who basically needed help with tuition to pursue a college education.
The reality is that, along with an unquestionable sense of patriotism, socioeconomics play a large part in who "volunteers," which explains why the military largely is made up of working-class men and women -- and why it should come as no surprise that, according to one survey, of 435 U.S. congressmen and 100 U.S. senators, just four have children in the military, and only one is an enlisted person.
While those who volunteer presumably understand the risks, what they have a right to expect in exchange for their commitment is a thoughtful, principled commander-in-chief who will put them in harm's way only as a last resort.
President Bush often invokes the word "courage" when defending the war in Iraq. In the face of all of the violence, he insists that America must summon the courage to stay the course.
Coming from someone who had the good fortune to avoid combat during Vietnam by landing National Guard duty -- and then didn't even bother to show up with any regularity -- the president's challenging the country to demonstrate courage would be amusing if the consequences weren't so serious.
None of this is to suggest that having a loved one on the front lines should be a prerequisite for supporting the war. There are legitimate arguments in favor of the course that's been taken -- although those arguments aren't nearly as convincing as the ones that were presented before March 2003.
But if you don't have anything to lose -- namely, a son, daughter, brother or sister -- then it might be worth considering whether you're asking for more than you'd be willing to give.
