Sheehan has forced us to reflect, and that’s OK
Cindy Sheehan, the grieving mother whose 24-year-old son Casey was killed in Iraq, spoke a couple of weeks ago in South Carolina during a stop on her national tour. She headed to Washington this past weekend and was arrested at a peace rally.
Ever since she set up “Camp Casey” in that ditch in Crawford, Texas, sparking heated debate about her motives, I’ve wondered how to respond to her “absolute moral authority.”
Her son was killed in a war she thinks is immoral and built on lies. She is involved in an anti-war group, writes for Michael Moore’s Web site, and wants our troops pulled out of Iraq and Bush kicked out of office.
The closest I’ve been to military service was a football recruiting visit to the U.S. Naval Academy while in high school. I turned down the opportunity to attend or play there. I knew I could better serve my country elsewhere by following my purpose in life.
At that time, and today, that doesn’t include picking up arms or putting on a uniform. I don’t know what tomorrow holds. I don’t regret my decision. The military isn’t the only way to serve your country well.
So does Sheehan’s loss give her moral authority? Does it mean she has a right to speak and be heard? Yes, it does.
No matter if you are for or against the war in Iraq, each of us has an obligation to understand fully its consequences, to look it squarely in the eye, and if it takes a Cindy Sheehan to force that examination, then so be it.
The greatest consequence of war is the loss of life and limb and security. And sanity. That’s why I think it is bad policy to ban pictures of flag-draped coffins, because it’s not wise to forget or ignore that reality.
But does her loss give her rights others of us don’t share? Does it mean she gets to require the president to enlist his daughters in the military when her son, and the sons and daughters of each of our military families, volunteered to serve their country in this capacity?
Does it make her words, her suggestions, her demands more important? Does it mean the rest of us must fall in line? Does it mean she should decide when our troops come home?
No, it doesn’t.
Each of us has the authority to speak up, clearly and forcefully, particularly on issues that touch us all. The obligation to do so gives each of us a moral responsibility.
As far as the “absolute” part, I’ve long felt that kind of authority is reserved for a power higher than a grieving mother, the president of the United States or any of the 6.5 billion of us residing on Earth.