“Hell no, we won’t go!” That was a popular chant of protesters during the Vietnam War. Although there were scattered anti-war protests over the weekend to mark the second anniversary of the U.S. invasion of Iraq, military-age African Americans have been protesting over the past five years in a quieter, more profound way n fewer are enlisting in the Army.
Blacks have bravely served in every American War, even unpopular ones such as the one in Vietnam. Unlike many of their elders, however, an increasing number of young African Americans are no longer willing to risk being shipped into a war zone to fight for a cause they do not support.
Department of Defense Youth and Influencer Polls conducted last May concluded, “Black youth were less supportive of U.S. troops’ presence in Iraq, less likely to feel the war was justified, more disapproving of the Bush administration’s handling of foreign affairs and more disapproving of its use of U.S. military forces than were whites or Hispanics.”
The war in Iraq exacerbated a downward trend among black Army recruits. In fiscal 2000, African Americans represented nearly a quarter of Army recruits. That figure fell to 22.7 percent in 2001, 19.9 percent in 2002, 16.4 percent in 2003, 15.9 percent in 2004 and 13.9 percent through the first four months of fiscal 2005.
The steady dip in recruitment does not mean there aren’t thousands of African Americans being deployed to Iraq. I got a chance to speak to about a dozen of them last month at the National Training Center at Fort Irwin, Calif. The sprawling Army base, sandwiched between Los Angeles and Las Vegas, is 37 miles northeast of Barstow, Calif. and 100 miles from nowhere.
As soldiers lined up to complete papers before leaving for Iraq, they told me of their fears and aspirations.
Last year, on the opposite end of the country n Fort Bragg, N.C. n and the opposite end of the age spectrum, I had witnessed many members of the National Guard about to be deployed to Iraq. Many were in their 40s and 50s and were being recalled to fight in what many call a young man’s (and woman’s) war. Most of these men and women had served earlier, but their lives were interrupted when their National Guard units were activated.
Two years ago, just before the fall of Baghdad, the NNPA News Service sent me to Dohar, Qutar. There, too, I found service men and women who had been to Iraq and Afghanistan. They had risked their lives at a time when some elected officials back home were talking about cutting their benefits. It would later be disclosed that if any of them had been killed during the war, their families would have received death benefits of only $12,420. Administration officials promised to increase that lump sum payment to $100,000, but that provision was not included in the Pentagon’s 2006 proposed budget. Congress will be asked to make a separate appropriation.
When I think back on the past two years, I keep asking myself: Was it worth it? Was it worth disrupting the lives of middle-age citizens who had already served their time? Was it worth it to launch a war based on lies and led by a group of “chicken hawks” who talk tough but avoided military service themselves?
It is not surprising that a growing number of young black men and women are asking these same questions.