The Hypocrisy of the American Christian Soldier
by
Laurence
M. Vance
by Laurence M. Vance
Can
a Christian be a soldier? Stephen Mansfield thinks he can, and tells
us so in his new book, The
Faith of the American Soldier (Tarcher/Penguin, 2005).
But are the two "callings" compatible? Does the combination
not rather lead to a cognitive
dissonance from which there is no escape?
Mansfield is
a former pastor whose "love of things military has moved him
to earn a master’s degree in history and public policy and a doctorate
in history and literature." This love of the military runs
in his family, for we are also told in "About the Author"
that "members of his family have been fighting for their country
since the American Revolution."
To write this
book, dozens of "men and women who have heroically served in
their country’s wars" were interviewed. Mansfield and "his
research team" visited the battlefields of Iraq, "the
plain" of West Point, the 101st Airborne at Fort
Campbell, Kentucky, and the headquarters of USCENTCOM at MacDill
Air Force Base in Tampa, Florida.
The author
has also written books about two war criminals: Britain’s Winston
Churchill (Never
Give In: The Extraordinary Character of Winston Churchill
[Cumberland House Publishing, 2002]) and our own George
WMD Bush (The
Faith of George W. Bush [Tarcher/Penguin, 2003]).
Mansfield introduces
his book with the account of Lance Corporal James Gault cutting
an Iraqi insurgent in half "almost exactly at the waist"
with his .50 caliber machine gun. Gault watched in shock as "the
man’s torso tilted forward, left his lower half, and fell to the
street." But then we are presented with a paradox: "James
Gault is a Christian and a warrior." Mansfield says of Gault:
"He has killed, and he will kill again. In fact, he believes
‘the bad guys have to die.’ To kill in a righteous cause
is what Gault has come to Iraq to do, and he does not shrink from
the charge." But then we read that "Gault is also a Christian,
a man who believes that Jesus is God, that He rose from the dead,
and that the Bible is the truth of God for all men."
Gault is a
Christian
killer.
The fact that
he attended church before he deployed to Iraq and heard his pastor
exhort the congregation to pray "for our young hero while he
is overseas" doesn’t change anything. And neither is anything
different because Gault’s pastor, his family, and the leaders of
his church laid their hands on his shoulders and prayed that God
would make his hands skillful to battle the Lord’s enemies.
Gault is still
a Christian killer.
Ripping a man
in half perplexes our man Gault: "He knows he is a follower
of Jesus, and he knows that he is called to be a Marine, but the
violence he unleashed leaves him needing assurance that he has killed
in a righteous cause, that his country is doing the will of God
in Iraq." Gault is tormented. He wants his chaplain to tell
him that "our enemies are the enemies of God." He wants
someone to explain to him "how this is a war between good and
evil." Gault needs to know that he is "a servant of Jesus."
He needs to be sure that he is "a soldier of Christ."
Gault is not
alone. There are thousands of Christians who have faced the same
dilemma. Christians in the military who can bomb, maim, and kill
for the state without thinking twice about it have a seriously defective
form of Christianity. Christian soldiers who reason that it is not
for them to judge whether a war is just or unjust are deceiving
themselves. "Soldiers must know, in clear terms," says
Mansfield, "not only why they fight but also if their cause
is just."
Unfortunately,
however, Mansfield never addresses these questions. He aims to explore
and celebrate "the religious nature of America’s military heritage"
while cautioning us that "this is not to be confused, though,
with a celebration of war. Only the immoral or the deformed of soul
can exalt war itself, with all of the grinding horrors that it brings."
But can "America’s military heritage" and "a celebration
of war" be separated? Not when the true nature of this heritage
is one of invasion, imperialism, oppression, interventionism, hegemony,
belligerency, bellicosity, jingoism, death, and destruction – things
never associated by Mansfield with "America’s military heritage."
The book fails
to deliver on another point as well. According to the dust jacket:
"New York Times-bestselling author Stephen Mansfield
surveys America’s wars from a religious and theological perspective
in order to understand the theological framing and spiritual rationale
for each, where they came from, and what effect they had on behavior
on the battlefield." Since the book has no index, I have carefully
gone through it searching for references to the American wars that
the author is supposed to survey. The results are disappointing.
Aside from the current war in Iraq and Afghanistan, there are references
to fourteen conflicts (the only declared wars in U.S. history were
the War of 1812, the Mexican War, the Spanish-American war, WWI,
& WWII). Most of these references have nothing to do with surveying
the war "from a religious and theological perspective."
Mentioned one
time each, but just in passing, is the Pequot War of 1637, the War
of 1812, the Mexican War, the Spanish-American War, the war "to
win the American West," and the conflict in Kosovo.
The Korean
War is mentioned twice. The first time is just a passing reference.
The second occasion consists of one paragraph in which Mansfield
says that the war had a religious dimension because "the Communist
forces of North Korea took pride in publicly persecuting missionaries
and desecrating churches" and "subjected captured American
chaplains to horrendous torture."
The Civil War
also comes up twice. The first time is likewise just a passing reference.
Four and a half pages are then devoted to accounts of chaplains
during the conflict.
The Gulf War
is cited as the place where "the first hint on the battlefield
that a new brand of warrior was seeking a vital faith in the field."
It is also mentioned one more time in the context of anti-Semitism.
There are three
references to the American Revolutionary War if we count the mention
of someone fighting "under George Washington." The second
mention is of "minutemen in the American Revolution."
There are three pages about pastors and chaplains during the American
Revolution – hardly a survey of one of America’s wars "from
a religious and theological perspective."
The conflict
in Mogadishu, Somalia, merits four references; however, none of
them consist of more than a bare mention of the place.
The Vietnam
War comes up on five occasions. It is mentioned in passing three
times. Russell’s father "had been a ranger in Vietnam."
Vietnam vets were spit on. POWs in Vietnam had courage. The only
thing of substance is a discussion of chaplains in the Vietnam War
that takes up two pages.
Mansfield brings
up World War I six times. Twice we are told that a certain man’s
father had been a chaplain in World War I. Two other times we are
told something else about chaplains. World War I is just causally
mentioned the other two times. That’s it.
World War II
is mentioned seven times. The "ghost of a soldier" from
World War II would be amazed at the technology used in modern warfare.
A soldier’s uncles fought in World War II. Others fought in World
War II. The essential role of the chaplain was recognized "by
the advent of World War II." During the war, "The chaplains’
corps ballooned from a few hundred to nearly ten thousand."
This leaves one reference of substance to World War II. Mansfield
devotes six pages to the account of the American transport ship
Dorchester and its four military chaplains.
Mansfield’s
book is a fraud. It no more "surveys America’s wars from a
religious and theological perspective" than the Secretary of
Defense pays attention to the number of dead Iraqis.
So what is
The Faith of the American Soldier about? What is the point
the author is trying to get across? Mansfield says that the book
is "the product of a search for the meaning of the American
warrior code and the faith that gave it birth." Because he
considers a nation’s "warrior code" to be "an extension
of its soul, the embodiment of its highest ideals," the "guiding
dream" of the book is "to understand that code and to
honor it as the distilled greatness of a people." This is gobbledygook.
Each of the book’s five chapters contains vignettes of soldiers
in Iraq, with a religious element, interspersed with some historical
references and psychobabble. The message of the book can be reduced
to this: Some American soldiers have been religious, many are religious
right now, and others need to be more religious.
The first chapter
introduces us to the Millennials – the generation who came of age
around the dawn of the new century. The Millennial is "better
informed about his world than any generation that has been called
upon to fight its nation’s wars." He is a "new brand of
warrior." Millennials serving in the military in Iraq "take
hold of religion as much as any army had in the nation’s history."
Their "unique approach to religion" is "changing
American at war." Their religion is characterized by an "unchurched
faith" that rejects "the structures, doctrines, and standards
of traditional faith in pursuit of spiritual experience, loving
community, and stories that have power to define their lives."
Mansfield explains that Millennials are
eager for
spirituality but suspicious of institutions, hungry for truth
but bored by systematics, inspired by stories but repelled by
standards, desperate for religious experience but put off by religious
style, hoping for spiritual family but disgusted by empty conformity,
longing for God but wondering if he is there.
The spirituality
of the Millennials is "perfectly suited for adaptation to the
battlefield." It is utilitarian, pragmatic, eclectic, and experimental.
The second
chapter begins with the story of the Shield of Strength carried
by many American soldiers – a "God and Country" trinket
with a picture of the American flag and the words "One Nation
Under God" on one side and the modified words of a Scripture
verse on the other. Mansfield calls it "almost the classic
Millennial military icon." He claims that it is "the emblem
most often carried by members of the military in Afghanistan and
Iraq." The amazing diversity of the faith of Christian soldiers
is the next theme Mansfield picks up. But they have a "new
brand of faith," one that is "more effective in meeting
the needs of soldiers than traditional chapel services." This
"new brand of faith" results in some strange "Christian"
activities like a tank crew quoting aloud the Scripture they have
memorized. I wonder what Scriptures they would quote while they
were cutting a man in half like the Lance Corporal at the beginning
of the book? Isn’t it wonderful that the Christian American soldier
today can listen to a sermon from his home church on his iPod or
watch his favorite preacher on a mini-DVD player? A "simplistic,
one-answer-fits-all kind of spirituality" is out and a "working,
experience-oriented, ‘real’ religion" is in. But still the
soldiers seek out the chaplains: "What do I want? Sir, I wanna’
know that Jesus is in my Humvee." This assurance is provided
by various rituals: praying, saying a blessing, reciting a confession,
listening to worship music, making the sign of the cross over a
Humvee, and, of course, carrying the Shield of Strength. But after
all this, Mansfield ends on a sad note: The diverse faith of the
Millennials "cannot be relied upon to guide the conduct of
warriors in any meaningful way." The Millennials "informal
faith" leads to a "variety of warrior codes" that
result in "an unevenness if not an inconsistency to the conduct
of warriors in the field."
The third chapter
is about those "men of cloth and steel" – military chaplains.
Mansfield considers them "among the noblest figures in the
field." He compares them to the priests of Israel leading the
Jews into battle, but also to priests in Roman armies sacrificing
animals and reading their entrails. Military chaplains are said
to be the successors of the colonial fighting parsons – pastors
who led militias into battle. The reader is led to believe that
the chaplains of today are doing a great service to the country
like those who served under George Washington in the Revolutionary
War. Mansfield writes as if all the wars that America has been involved
in are created equal: "Chaplains continued to earn respect
during the wars to win the American West and the Spanish-American
War." It doesn’t matter how unjust the cause, chaplains serve
the Lord by ministering to the troops. Thus, Mansfield can laud
"one bold chaplain" who constantly urged Marines "courage
in their task by quoting scriptures and praying aloud" as he
accompanied them on their mission – going door to door looking for
insurgents in Fallujah. Chaplains who do have doubts about the justness
of a particular war certainly aren’t free to express their opinion,
as Mansfield’s account of a private questioning his chaplain shows:
I went to
a chaplain and asked if he thought God was on our side and if
we were really fighting evil by fighting the insurgents. You could
see he wasn’t sure, or at least that he didn’t want to say. He
hesitated. Then he said: "Well, the president says we are
fighting for democracy and the values of freedom. So we must be
doing a good thing." I thought to myself, Man, that’s the
answer I expected from my government professor back home, not
from a spokesman for God.
The fourth
chapter returns to the idea of a "warrior code." Mansfield
explains:
The warrior
code takes a soldier and makes him a knight. It connects the natural
life of a fighter to a supernatural understanding of the warrior
calling. His duties are transformed into holy sacrifices; his
sense of self is reformed into an image of the servant in pursuit
of valor. He becomes part of a fellowship, a noble tradition that
flows through him and carries him beyond the mediocre and the
vain.
But is this
something that Christians should involve themselves in? Mansfield
maintains that "the foundation of any religiously influenced
warrior code is a theology of war." He then brings up "the
moral basis for war," and insists that Augustine’s "Just
War Theory" provides "the basis for any warrior code."
Mansfield claims that "there was some consideration of the
Just War theory" before the Bush administration invaded Iraq
in March of 2003. He specifically refers to a February 10, 2003,
lecture by Michael Novak on Christian Just War doctrine with specific
reference to Iraq. The speech was a "brilliant exposition of
the Augustinian theory of war as it has been applied through the
ages, the contemporary applicability of those teachings, and the
moral moorings of the Bush Doctrine." Moral moorings? Bush’s
war is one of the most immoral interventions in U.S. history. It
is against every Christian Just War principle that has ever been
thought of. Any "warrior code" that can’t discern the
unjust nature of this war is not a code that any Christian should
follow.
The fifth chapter
opens with "the basic facts of the Abu Ghraib prison scandal
as they are presented in the Schlesinger Panel’s report and as they
have surfaced in interviews with guards at the scene." But
Mansfield considers "a refusal to learn the lessons of Abu
Ghraib and thus allow such scandals to reoccur" as "perhaps
a greater misfortune." Men and women under "dire stress"
may "descend into barbarism" if they don’t have moral
leadership, core values held before them, and a noble sense of mission.
They need a "faith-based warrior code." Mansfield never
even considers that perhaps we just shouldn’t put men and women
in situations like guarding the Abu Ghraib prison to begin with.
But even worse, he is not averse to war at all. A "heartfelt
warrior code" provides the restraint "to immoral behavior
under the stress of war." How about the immoral nature of the
Bush doctrine and war itself? There is nothing wrong with this war
that Mansfield can’t fix with his "faith-based warrior code."
We are introduced to a confused, young Christian soldier named Bob
Daniels who wonders
if true Christians
are on the wrong side of this thing. Maybe the terrorists are
doing god’s will. Maybe God wants to destroy the America that
secular humanism built and restore her to be that city on a hill
she is supposed to be. I came over here all fired up thinking
we were fighting against evil. Now I’m wondering if we are evil.
And what is
Mansfield’s solution? Does he tell this young soldier that he has
been deceived by the president and the U.S. government? Does he
tell this young soldier about the history of U.S. wars and interventions
that have helped create terrorists and enemies of the United States?
No, "what Bob Daniels needs is what a faith-based warrior code
would give him: an assessment of Islam that would frame his fight
against terror."
It is in the
Epilogue that we see in full bloom the real hypocrisy of the American
Christian soldier. Mansfield describes how a band of Marines, fully
dressed for battle, hold their rifles aloft "as though to say,
‘Here, O Lord, receive this weapon into Your service.’" Then
they recite the doxology, quote a verse of scripture together, pause
in silence for each man to confess his sins, quote another verse
of scripture, sing a hymn, have a responsive reading (during which
time some soldiers kiss their Shield of Strength trinket), say "Amen"
– and then go out and fight and kill for the U.S. government.
In
the end, Mansfield is no different than the state-worshipping, Bush-idolizing,
Republican Party-adoring, pious Christian warmongers who do all
but call for my death as a traitor because I dare to criticize their
leader and his
war.
"The only
defensible war is a war of defense," said G.K.
Chesterton. Perhaps Mansfield ought to read
him before he writes another book justifying Christian participation
in U.S. wars.
February
13, 2006
Laurence
M. Vance [send him mail]
is a freelance writer and an adjunct instructor in accounting and
economics at Pensacola Junior College in Pensacola, FL. He is also
the director of the Francis
Wayland Institute. His new book is Christianity
and War and Other Essays Against the Warfare State. Visit
his website.
Copyright
© 2006 LewRockwell.com
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