Nothing Sacred

Lots of folks have gotten their knickers in a twist – and rightly so – about Pat Robertson’s personal fatwa against Hugo Chavez, the president of Venezuela. I’m skipping that one, for much the same reason I skipped the Cindy Sheehan affair: it all seems like business as usual. Every day there’s a new cause célèbre, and I can’t keep them all straight.

[For an in depth view of the cluttered closet Pat Robertson calls his mind, have a look at what my friend Todd has to say about Robertson's hit list.]

I am pissed off, however, about the desecration of Arlington National Cemetery by the government.

Arlington is, of course, the nation’s second largest and most prestigious national cemetery. Established during the Civil War, Arlington serves as a resting place for veterans of all our nation’s wars, from the American Revolution through current actions in Afghanistan and Iraq. (Dead from before the Civil War were reinterred in the 20th century.) The cemetery also houses the remains of John and Robert Kennedy, as well as memorials to the crew of the Space Shuttle Challenger and those killed in The Pentagon on September 11.

Even if you’ve never been to Arlington, you’ve no doubt been moved by photos of the rows and rows of white headstones. Traditionally, these marble markers are inscribed simply, with the name, rank, military branch, dates of birth and death, and the war or country in which the person served.

Not any more.

For the first time in history, most of the gravestones for troops killed in Iraq or Afghanistan have been inscribed with the advertising slogans – "Operation Enduring Freedom," "Operation Iraqi Freedom" – the Pentagon dreamed up to promote the wars. Not only that, but families who have received headstones from the government for burials outside of Arlington have found these slogans inscribed as well.

In theory, families are being told they have the right to have the motto engraved. But it seems to be like the phone company – you have to request not have the engraving, just as you have to request an unlisted number. As a result, a number of families have experienced a nasty surprise. According to an AP account, Nadia and Robert McCaffrey, whose son Patrick was killed in Iraq, discovered "Operation Iraqi Freedom" inscribed upon his government-supplied headstone without their approval. "In one way, I feel it's taking advantage to a small degree," McCaffrey said. "Patrick did not want to be there, that is a definite fact." Even the stoneworker who supplies markers to Arlington and other national cemeteries is uncomfortable with the practice, saying "It just seems a little brazen that that's put on stones. It seems like it might be connected to politics." Ya think?

Why, you may ask, does it matter? Why get into a huff about this?

It’s about respect.

Once upon a time – prior to the 1980s – the Pentagon devoted its efforts to fighting wars, rather than selling them. Okay, that’s an oversimplification: the military has always put some effort into public relations. After all, they hired Frank Capra to make the “Why We Fight” series of films during World War II. But they didn’t come up with the name World War II. Or the Great War. Or the War of 1812 – a moniker which would certainly not fly today. Not until the late 80s did the Pentagon start creating operation names designed to generate public support. The 1989 invasion of Panama represented their first big hit, with “Operation Just Cause.” (Rather than “Operation Overthrow Noriega,” a discarded effort.) According to a publication of the Army War College, this initiated the practice of naming operations "with an eye toward shaping domestic and international perceptions about the activities they describe." Since then, every military effort has had a public “Operation” name, from “Desert Shield” (the precursor to “Desert Storm”) to “Power Geyser” (the largely unknown and possibly unconstitutional protection of George Bush by armed commandos). (Possibly unconstitutional because the Posse Comitatus Act of 1878 prohibits using the armed forces for law enforcement within the United States. Possibly not unconstitutional because the President can waive this law in an emergency, and I’m sure George Bush considers his well-being an emergency.)

I appreciate the need of the Pentagon to sell their largely distasteful product. And I understand the belief that the best way to capture the support of the public is through a catchy and largely untrue slogan. But I believe that at death, all advertising should stop. Just as I would hope that my loved ones would balk at installing a convenience store-style television monitor in my tombstone, the Administration should combat their unseemly desire to promote their war through soldiers who have given their last full measure of devotion.

This, after all, is Arlington. If any place in the country should remain apolitical, it is the home of our war dead. The rows of identical markers are a reminder that death, like war, is egalitarian. (Unless you’re gay, or until the latter half of the 20th century, female or black.) A simple “2005” and “Iraq” would tell enough of the story for any visitor.

To quote Abraham Lincoln once again, “The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract.” It is ironic that to this Administration, which traces its roots back to the Lincoln presidency and which revels in its Christianity, nothing is sacred.