WARRIOR CHIC--the idea that biography trumps policy, that a person's identity proves the validity of their ideas--now dominates our politics, as anyone who listened to the House of Representatives debate the Iraq war this week can attest. On Tuesday the Democrats began the debate over House Concurrent Resolution 63, which says the House supports American forces serving in Iraq but disagrees with President Bush's decision to send additional troops into combat. The Democrats opened with a series of speeches from congressmen who have served in this war and in others--their status as veterans giving them unique perspective on matters of war and peace, and thus, in Democrats' eyes, lending their opposition to Bush's "escalation" of the war greater weight. "I take the floor today not as a Democrat or a Republican," said freshman Democratic congressman Patrick Murphy of Pennsylvania on Tuesday, "but as an Iraq war veteran, who was a captain with the 82nd Airborne division in Baghdad." His time in Baghdad, Murphy went on, only showed "that in order to succeed, we must make it clear to the Iraqis that we are not going to be there forever."
A debate on Bush's policy on its merits, engaging with its plusses and minuses, the possibility that it might work, and the possibility it might not, was nowhere to be found. Instead one witnessed a strange mix of Veteran's Day Parade and Democratic party convention. "We are the troops," Murphy said, "And we oppose the president's escalation of troops." Argument over. Murphy was joined by Admiral Joe Sestak, another freshman Democrat from Pennsylvania, who said on Tuesday that "if my 31 years in the military taught me anything," it was that American soldiers in combat require a clearly defined mission with an ultimate exit strategy--something that, Sestak continued, the soldiers fighting in Iraq do not have.
The Democratic party, which nominated a Vietnam war hero for president in 2004 and scoured the country for antiwar veterans such as Sen. James Webb to run for Congress in 2006, has long been victim to warrior chic. Yet it is a tic to which Republicans are equally susceptible. On the House floor on Thursday, Rep. Sam Johnson of Texas managed the speeches of several of his Republican colleagues whose time in the military taught them that America must never quit the fight. Johnson spent 29 years in the United States Air Force and almost 7 years in a North Vietnamese prison. "Each person joining me is a shining example of duty, honor, and country," Johnson said. "And I know folks across American will learn a lot from hearing about their stories and hearing why they know, first hand, freedom is not free."
Hmm. If a veteran opposes the troop surge, one is tempted to ask, but another is for it, then doesn't their status as veterans somehow cancel out? Isn't it obvious that there are reasons to oppose or support a policy independent of how many years someone has spent in combat? When speaking of today's politics, this fact is not so obvious after all. During this week's debate, those representatives who have not fought in a war themselves went to great lengths to find soldiers or families of soldiers who happened to agree with them. The Move-On Republican Rep. Walter Jones of North Carolina said on Wednesday he had met with "a real marine, a genuine hero" who thought the Iraq war was a mistake-- and so, Rep. Jones implied, that must be the case. That same day, Arizona Republican Rep. John Shadegg quoted a soldier who said America must do everything possible to defeat the insurgency in Iraq-- and so, Rep. Shadegg suggested, we cannot quit now. But which soldier is right? Are all soldiers equal, but some soldiers more equal than others? No one would say.
Warrior chic in American politics has a storied history, extending back to the days of the Bloody Shirt during Reconstruction. But there are (at least) two reasons for its recent reemergence. The first is plain enough. In the age of the all-volunteer military, when many Americans have no relationship, personal or otherwise, with the United States Armed Forces, it is proper and just that people respect and pay homage to the sacrifices of the American soldier. Strangely, however, when such an attitude becomes entangled in politics, the soldier transforms into a prop, a tool by which a party or a candidate tries to win the support of the electorate.
The second reason can be found in the rise of identity politics, which argues that only groups with shared ethnicity or "life experience" are fit to govern themselves. A member of an out-group has no authority over the in-group. In the arena of urban policy, this leads to "community organizing," when groups of poor are encouraged to act in an adversarial manner toward the municipality in order to secure direct benefits. In the academy, identity politics leads to ever-balkanizing progams in Ethnic, Gender, and African-American studies. And in foreign policy, identity politics leads the partisans of warrior chic to argue that soldiers--or former soldiers--have more stature and authority than their civilian fellows. Taken to the extreme, of course, such an idea erodes the principle, embodied in the Constitution, of civilian control of the military. But, in the heat of an argument over a war in which people are dying, no one pays much attention to the Constitution.
New York Democratic Rep. Charles Rangel, one of the era's supreme practitioners of politics--congressional, machine, identity, and otherwise--explored the outer limits of warrior chic in his speech on the House floor on Thursday. Rangel, who has previously suggested that men and women join the Armed Forces solely for financial reasons, told the story of his visit to the funeral of a soldier killed in Iraq. "The family actually walked me to the coffin," Rangel said, according to a transcript at the liberal blog Thinkprogress.org, "and my knees buckled. Why? . . . I saw a soldier about 20 years old. . . . and he looked just like me."
And there you have it: the soldier as authority, the soldier as prop, the congressman as narcissist. But this is only one example; listen to this week's House speeches and you will find plenty others, from both sides of the aisle.
Where all this leads is unclear. What is clear is that warrior chic is the enemy of reasoned and impersonal debate. Years ago, the columnist Walter Lippmann wrote that the "public interest may be presumed to be what men would choose if they saw clearly, thought rationally, acted disinterestedly and benevolently." Walter Lippmann, of course, never met Charlie Rangel.
Matthew Continetti is associate editor at THE WEEKLY STANDARD and the author of The K Street Gang: The Rise and Fall of the Republican Machine (Doubleday).