Reflections on the Citizen-Soldier

Abstract

When it comes to war, I have been sheltered from the storm. Too young to have faced the draft, which was last used in the United States in 1973, I did not volunteer for the military. My father, by contrast, was conscripted into the US Army during World War II and saw action in Italy. His father was conscripted into the US Army during World War land saw action in France. My grandfather's outfit was gassed; my father dodged shells in the Tuscan hills. One of my father's cousins fought in the French Resistance; another survived Nazi concentration camps, airplane factories, and a death march, to be liberated by Patton's Third Army. In my generation, American cousins have served in the US military, foreign cousins served in the French and Israeli armies, and another American cousin was a civilian casualty of the war on terror: He died in New York City in the Twin Towers on 11 September 2001. As a student of military history, I knew well before 9/11 that I owed my freedom to the sacrifices of others. But the events of that day and the year and more since have underlined that lesson. As a student of the Classics, I also know that republican theory teaches that unless the citizens of a republic serve in their own defense, they risk losing their freedom. In the United States today, citizens of the republic do serve in their own defense. Yet only a small proportion of us do so, and a smaller proportion than in the generations that preceded us. Between 1940 and 1973, a large proportion of American males were conscripted to serve in the military. Since 1973, conscription has been replaced by recruitment of an all-volunteer force. A professional military of American men and, increasingly, women, defends the nation. On the whole, the move from conscription to volunteering is excellent news. No one is forced into service, nor is the nation burdened with an overly large military in an era when improvements in technology require ever less manpower in the armed forces. But there is a trade-off. The personal freedom that the average American gained from the end of the draft 30 years ago has unfortunately not been matched by an increase in either civic duty or sense of self-sacrifice. It is doubtful that the average person today is as knowledgeable about military realities as he was in the days of the draft, and that relative ignorance surely has something to do with the tensions in civil-military relations of recent years. Few of the politicians who have to make decisions about war and peace actually have the experience of military service. The politicians' relative ignorance is made worse by a generation-long trend in the American intellectual elite away from military studies. Furthermore, although the volunteer force is by and large representative of the American public in terms of race and class, it is lopsidedly conservative in politics and religion. All things considered, it would be better to have a more representative military. Yet, recognizing the reality of these problems does not mean advocating a return to conscription. In fact, we do not need to revive the draft. Conscripting young people means taking away their liberty, and the only justification for that is military emergency. Besides, the purpose of the American military is to defend the United States, and since the volunteer force fulfills that purpose, it would make no sense to change it. The current security crises facing the United States may indeed require a bigger military, but probably not so big as to require a draft. Yet, even if no increase in the number of soldiers proves necessary, there is a modest reform that we should consider: diversifying the number and range of civilians who do a term of service in the military. The reason has nothing to do with the patriotism or professionalism of the men and women in the military today. In fact, no one could serve their country better than they do. The target audience, rather, is those who do not currently serve in the military. …