It is hard to know what to say about a tragic incident like the shootings which occurred at Fort Hood, Texas on Thursday. Indeed, it seems best to say very little until more facts are known, other than to unequivocally condemn the actions of the gunman and try to console the grieving comrades and families of the casualties.
As a brother, son, grandson, nephew, and friend to men who have served their countries in the armed services, I know all too well the fears that wartime conflicts create. Will my loved ones be deployed, and, if so, will they be returned to me? However, I can only imagine the shock and horror that come after violent acts -- such as that perpetrated yesterday by suspected killer Nidal Malik Hasan -- occur on home bases, from within the ranks of one's own forces. It must suddenly, terribly, seem like no place on Earth is safe for the men and women who make up America’s fighting forces.
Although the facts of the incident and Hasan’s motives are still emerging, at first glance yesterday’s shootings echo the case of Mark Fidel Kools (better known as Hasan Akbar; because of the potential confusion, I use his birth name hereafter). Kools was a US Army Sergeant who, just days after the 2003 invasion of Iraq, attacked fellow soldiers at Kuwait’s Camp Pennsylvania with grenades and gunfire. He killed 2 people and wounded 14 others, and was sentenced to death in 2005 (http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,154969,00.html).
Like Kools, Hasan was a devout follower of an Islamic faith; there have been unconfirmed reports that Hasan exclaimed “Allahu Akbar” (“God is Greatest”) prior to opening fire. Like Kools, Hasan had apparently complained to superiors about harassment due to his religion; he had recently been posted to Texas, leaving behind the supports of his family and religious community in Maryland. Like Kools, Hasan was apparently disillusioned with American military policy in Iraq and Afghanistan; sources report that he had argued with colleagues about the merits of these wars. And like Kools, Hasan apparently tried to get out of the military before his impending deployment.
Therefore, I can understand fears such as those conveyed by LCol Allen West (US Army, Ret.), who once served at Fort Hood. (He resigned after a scandal involving the abusive interrogation of Iraqi police officer.) Currently a Republican congressional candidate in Florida’s 22nd District, West apparently said in a press release earlier today that “the horrible tragedy at Fort Hood is proof the enemy is infiltrating our military” (http://thehill.com/blogs/blog-briefing-room/news/66685-top-gop-recruit-says-ft-hood-shooting-shows-enemy-is-infiltrating-our-military). He has called for more resources to investigate and combat this supposed creeping menace.
However, I worry about the policies that could emerge from such rhetoric. Department of Defense estimates put the number of self-identified Muslims in the United States armed forces at under 4 000, or only about .025% of the nearly 1 500 000 active-duty service members. Logic would suggest that of these very few are devout fundamentalists, and even fewer are extremists. We can thus conclude that next to no other Muslim soldiers would be likely to copy Hasan’s actions. It is a mistake to think, as many members of the public do, that all military personnel are clockwork killers, poised to strike at the smallest excuse.
Yet actively purging Muslims from the military -- as some are predictably quick to suggest -- could provide much more than the “smallest excuse”. Indeed, if one was looking to boost stateside recruitment for Islamic terrorist groups, I could hardly think of a better way than for government agencies to actively disenfranchise Muslim military men and women. Many people already have trouble distinguishing the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan from a war against Islam. To repeat the mistakes of the Red Scare could only cement this conflation.
As in the aftermath of the Columbine disaster, where pundits were quick to pin blame on everything from bullying to video games to gun laws, the world media will rush to try to make sense of these terrible events: Was Hasan frustrated by his dashed attempts to avoid deployment? Was he feeling torn between allegiance to his uniform and allegiance to his God? Was he trying to make a statement against American policy? Was he striking back at colleagues he viewed as tormentors rather than allies? Was he suffering from vicarious traumatisation after hearing countless horror stories from soldiers that he saw in his capacity as an Army psychiatrist at Walter Reed Hospital? Was it some explosive cocktail blended from all of these factors and more?
If there is one positive aspect to the resolution of the Fort Hood shootings, it is that Hasan was not killed. At the time of this writing he remains in a coma, but hopefully he will regain consciousness: to answer for his crimes and to explain the reasons for the betrayal of his medical and military oaths. The fact that Hasan emptied his apartment and gave away possessions to neighbours makes me think that he did not expect to still be alive on Thursday night.
Trying to understand the personality and situation variables that led to Hasan's terrible acts does not mean we need excuse them. On the contrary, only with careful analysis and action can we reduce the likelihood of a similar tragedy in the future.
