War Babies, Young Republicans
There's nothing like a gaggle of young reactionaries to help sharpen your aim. They're easy targets, yes, wide-eyed and green, but given what they have in mind for us down the road, they are more than fair game. In fact, they are mandatory game.
For the past few days, these Coulter/Hannity wannabes convened at the College Republican National Convention in Arlington, VA. Some of the activities, as witnessed by a couple of undercover moles, were pretty much what one would expect -- lots of beer chugging, cigar smoking, political networking, and of course extensive liberal baiting. Nothing new there. (One guy was spotted wearing a Rumsfeld t-shirt. A Rumsfeld t-shirt?) But the big topic that these little GOPers either dodged or tried to explain away was their avoidance of active military service. They are prime Army or Marine stock, and since most if not all of them support the occupation of Iraq, you'd think, being solid patriots, they'd finish their weekend blast by immediately enlisting for combat duty.
As Steve Gilliard points out (he loves shooting chickenhawks), these GOPers have no intention of acting on their professed love of war. Which is no surprise. Most domestic supporters of Bush's war who are capable of military service simply and arrogantly refuse to do so. Steve calls them cowards, which I suspect many are. But in my experience, most of these people are crass elitists. They see themselves as the Smart Folk who must remain alive in order to influence or help shape national policy. Dying in war? That's for the working class and the poor. That's for idiots and losers who could not get into the Heritage Foundation, CATO Institute, or CSIS.
As Andrew Sullivan once put it, those sent to kill and die are our "servants," a social category those bright kids at that Arlington conference want no part of. They are into power and money. Let some ####### hick from West Virginia deal with car bombs and snipers. They got deals to make and policy papers to ghost.
Again, nothing new. Back in the day, I hung out with several of these types, most of whom had cut their political teeth at the Dartmouth Review, the infamous reactionary campus paper that gave us the likes of Dinesh D'Souza and Laura Ingraham, among less notable others. None of them had any desire to serve in the military, but they were some of the biggest militarists I'd ever encountered, waxing romantically about the glories of combat and conquering rogue nations. I'd listen, smile, nod my head. Order another drink. Then I'd tell them that I served in the military, and while I never saw combat (different time), I knew all about basic training, how hard it is even if you're in peak condition. Though I was gung-ho going in, I felt little romance once my drill sergeants began barking in my face, telling me to drop and give them 20/30/50 push-ups, depending on my transgression or their moods. I heard no poetry as I crawled through mud under barbed-wire while live M-60 tracer rounds whizzed right over my head (in that summer heat, M-60 bullets provided brief but appreciated breeze). And there was nothing at all sublime about removing my gas mask in a closed hut filled with tear gas, having to endure the intense burning in my eyes, nostrils and mouth until the drill sergeant ordered us out into fresh air, where most of us (me included) fell to our knees, gagged, coughed, vomited on the hillside grass.
There was much more to basic than that. But this was enough to quiet my young reactionary friends, at least when I was around them. And when I'd ask what made them so special that they wouldn't do what I did, they gave pretty much the same answers as the latest batch of GOPers mentioned above: they had their careers to think about.
So while it's fun -- and necessary -- to bash these war-for-thee-but-not-for-me opportunists and future Beltway hustlers, just remember that they come from a long line of pro-war elitists who hold the average soldier and Marine in contempt. For them, "supporting the troops" means letting the lower-orders fight and die alone. |
