Athiests in Foxholes

The media occasionally report on Christian evangelicalism and proselytization in the military services, particularly at the military academies.  One journalist who tracks stories about non-believing and minority religion servicemembers coerced into Christian worship is Ed Brayton, who blogs about this and other issues at Dispatches from the Culture Wars.

Last week he published a letter from a US Army officer who said he’d experienced multiple instances of religious persecution during his career.  The officer, who is a Jew, related how during his cadet days his West Point squad leader tried to force him to eat pork.  When he refused to eat at all, the squad leader reported his refusal up the chain of command, eventually resulting in his being counseled by a major who told him “the Army is not in the business of catering to people like you.”  If that’s true, it’s shocking and wrong.  Had it happened to me it certainly would have marked my immediate departure — and the filing of a lawsuit as well.

But other things this officer said gave me pause.  For example, he said this about taking his commissioning oath:

[. . .] I took a solemn oath to support and defend the United States Constitution against all enemies foreign and domestic as an officer in the United States Army. I took a legally altered oath which omitted the words “So Help Me G-d.” When I submitted my first signed copy, with those words neatly crossed out and initialed, I was informed that it was not valid.

Later on, he described his reaction to a opening prayer during a mandatory mission briefing:

[. . .] What do I do when this happens? I see no reason why I should have to bow my head to participate in this involuntary prayer. But if I stand at attention, I am still showing that I am subject to religion in my professional duties. I have discovered that any other movements or fidgeting are viewed as disrespectful to those who wish to pray. Army leaders send the message out that prayer is voluntary, and that Soldiers do not have to participate. As a Platoon Leader serving in Iraq, my Squad Leaders and I were ordered to attend a mission briefing with the Battalion Command Team’s security squad. The briefing concluded with a Soldier being ordered to lead the group in prayer. I was disturbed because I knew that there were Soldiers on this team who did not share the specific, sectarian Christian religious beliefs being expressed. I was standing at the edge of the formation, and chose to quietly walk away.

Er, okay. . . .

I was in the USAF from 1973 to 1997. I’ve been a non-believer from the age of 13 and a confirmed lefty since 1965, when I helped pack clothing and food for the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee during my freshman year in college. The USAF had no problem with me: I made it to lieutenant colonel, I flew F-15s all over the world, I served on the joint staff with officers from the other services . . . and not once in 24 years did I experience any sort of discrimination or pressure to change my religious or political views.

At one point I was executive officer to a wing commander in Alaska and had to review all the officer evaluation reports coming up the chain for the commander’s endorsement. I routinely rejected OERs that mentioned a ratee’s Christianity or church attendance, sending them back to the evaluators with instructions to remove any discussion of religion. My boss never challenged me on that; inserting religion into the promotion process was and is against the rules. Career impact on me? None. On the contrary, I left Alaska with an assignment to one of the military’s most prestigious advanced schools, the Armed Forces Staff College.

Reading about the evangelical movement in the military today, I wonder that I did as well as I did. Many would say that with my politics and beliefs I’d have been an awkward fit for the military. But my experience was otherwise; I fit in just fine. Not that the evangelicals weren’t entrenched in the ranks during the 1980s and 1990s . . . they were . . . but they never came after me.

Why? Maybe I was able to stay under the evangelicals’ radar because I fit the fighter pilot image: white, blonde, blue-eyed, gung ho.  Maybe I was just lucky.  But here’s what I think it was: while I never hid my views, I didn’t broadcast them either.  If asked, I’d answer honestly, but I didn’t wear my commie pinko atheism on my sleeve.

This guy, apparently, wore his shit for all to see.  Such people are often obnoxious about their individuality, and come across as assholes.  And the military, like any other institution, will not abide an asshole.  Yes, I know I sound like Jack Nicholson’s Colonel Jessep in A Few Good Men, but damn it, it’s true.

Anyone who’s been in leadership positions in the military, either as an NCO or a commissioned officer, will tell you they can spot a shitbird at a hundred yards.  I don’t disbelieve the essence of this officer’s story . . . I had a few brushes with the evangelicals during my career, and while they never came after me I know they made life miserable for others . . . but I smell a shitbird, and I’m not surprised he had so much trouble during his career.  If you say “bring it on,” they’re going to bring it, after all.

Despite appearances and media reports, I know for a fact that there are plenty of men and women like me in the military, and most of them are getting along quite well.