Typically, I like the game of politics. I like the strategy and the plotting. I like a good fight.
When writing this column, I've sometimes failed to steer away from taking cheap shots at people whose ideology I don't follow or whose sanctimonious political remonstration I find funny. I am human, and I'm neither the first nor the last.
There are some times of the year, though, that I just can't bring myself to consider writing or even thinking of anything that dishonors the quiet dignity that our soldiers, current and past, fight to protect our national ideology and existence. Memorial Day is one of these times.
Growing up in a seaside resort town, Memorial Day signified the mourning of sleepy weeks lost to throngs of summer tourists that make their first pilgrimage to the snowy sands of Florida's Emerald Coast. Amid cheers from children let out of elementary school and gleeful musings of adults escaping the confines of gray cities, it's always been hard for me to fully contemplate the sacrifices made by thousands of men and women in our armed services.
But outside of the idyllic and worry-free world of pastel-colored beach cottages, Memorial Day is a day where outdoor barbecues offer a small retreat from the horrors of war that haunt families.
In Washington, Memorial Day is a day of public mourning. President Barack Obama, like all of his recent predecessors, lays a wreath in Arlington National Cemetery. Songs are performed in the National Mall during Memorial Day concerts as an attempt to lighten up the mood after a mother of a fallen soldier tells the gathered crowd how her son died in Iraq.
Again, I do like political fights and arguments; the freedom to do so is what makes Memorial Day worth celebrating. But lately, the arguments between the upper echelons of the Republican Party over whether water-boarding is torture, and even if it is, whether torture should effectively be outlawed, has left a sullen mark on our reputation.
Our soldiers have not, do not, and never should be instruments that memorialize America's acceptance into the league of ordinary nations. We do not torture not because we ask others to follow international law, which itself forbids torture, and neither because we believe that by standing as a civilized role model to the world we stand in favor to dissuade other nations from acting with such barbarity.
The United States of America does not torture because it debases what our politicians label as our soldiers' sacrifice.
When we torture, when we hold prisoners indefinitely and discriminately without due process on detention bases like Guantanamo, and when we take shortcuts with our Constitution and Bill of Rights, soldiers' lives are no longer sacrificed; they are stolen. Stolen by the human slights of judgment that are never corrected but turned into political hot potatoes tossed between former unprincipled vice presidents and sly political operatives, all looking for publicity to sweeten their own book deals.
Their lives are stolen when we steal away from our nation's principles. Their lives are stolen, and not sacrificed, when we dishonor our soldiers' quiet bravery and immense courage.
Matthew Christ is a political science sophomore. His column appears weekly.
