titantoo
02-27-2005, 11:08 AM
Comment From Surrey to Basra, abuse is a fact of British army life
Officers who blame 'a few bad apples' ignore a culture of brutalisation
Joanna Bourke
Saturday February 26, 2005
Guardian
Stanley Kubrick's film Full Metal Jacket must rank as one of the grimmest portrayals of the Vietnam war. A leading character, dubbed "Joker", is asked why he volunteered; he replies: "[I] wanted to meet interesting, stimulating people from an ancient land ... and kill them." Confronted with the harrowing photographic evidence of abuse by British soldiers in Iraq, it is tempting to add the phrase "humiliate, sexually abuse, and torture" to this admission. We seem to have moved a long way from the promise of restoring democracy to the Iraqi people. Part of the war has been conducted at a court martial in the ancient German city of Osnabruck, where two soldiers of the Royal Regiment of Fusiliers have been found guilty of abusing civilian prisoners. A third soldier had already pleaded guilty to assault, after he was photographed standing on an Iraqi prisoner. It is not only these men who stood trial, but the British army itself. And for many people around the world, the British people also bear some responsibility.
Even before these convictions, the militant Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, who has been linked to al-Qaida, claimed that suicide attacks were "in response to the harm inflicted by British occupation forces on our brothers in prison". Given our army's record of abuse and torture in Malaya, Kenya, Aden, Cyprus, and Northern Ireland (to name just a few), is it any wonder that many people might react cynically to claims that justice has been done?
The evidence of abuse on British army premises in Iraq that was revealed during the trial indicates that something is seriously wrong with our armed forces. Rituals involving physical and psychological humiliation, as well as sexual abuse, are not confined to overseas operations, but are also present "at home". A survey carried out by the Ministry of Defence in 2002 found that more than 40% of British soldiers believed the army had a problem with bullying, sexual discrimination and harassment.
More recently, an official study claims that almost half the women serving in the RAF have been sexually harassed at some point in their career. And only yesterday, the Sun published photographs of members of the Queen's Guard apparently ritually humiliating a new recruit by tying him naked to a fence and pouring what appears to be manure over his head.
In addition, the claims of ritual humiliation and sexual abuse at Deepcut training camp, in Surrey, are profoundly disturbing. A police report into the barracks contained more than 100 allegations of serious abuse.
The fact that the army was aware of the repeated violent, predatory behaviour of men such as Lance Corporal Leslie Skinner (convicted in 2004 of a series of sexual attacks on young recruits) and Lance Corporal David Atkinson (who murdered Cambridge student Sally Geeson on New Year's Day), is another indictment of the institution.
The army insists that these are aberrations - a few "bad apples". But it is plausible to assume that bullying and abuse are more widespread than senior officers wish to admit. Within the barracks, a culture of silence prevails. Leslie Skinner's victims, for instance, said nothing for years. The reason for their reticence was that Skinner was "rank" and in the army "you do what you are told".
Unquestioning obedience is inculcated into every recruit. Basic training, from the donning of a uniform to being subjected to a relentless series of drills and chants, induces a lessening of self-awareness. Such a process of de-individuation can lead to the weakening of restraints against prohibited forms of behaviour. This is coupled with the fact that positive military values include aggression, dominance and overt displays of physical prowess. Sensitivity, understanding and compassion are routinely derided.
The "macho" culture in training barracks is shared by female soldiers too, many of whom become obsessed with the need to trounce the boys. And despite their enthusiasm, "GI Janes" often become targets of abuse.
During the Gulf war, much was made of the fact that two US servicewomen taken prisoner had been raped. What was less publicised was that 24 US servicewomen reported being raped or sexually assaulted by colleagues during the withdrawal of forces. Similarly, 29% of American women who served in Vietnam were victims of actual or attempted sexual assault.
Clearly, ethical and moral codes change in the conditions of military life. These altered standards, together with isolation from family and civilian networks, favour brutalisation.
So, too, does the general ambience of preparing for war. In the Falklands war of 1982, for instance, British soldiers on troop ships were shown violent pornographic films as a way of stimulating their aggression prior to battle. Young male recruits in particular were terrified of being derided as "queer" and "chicken". Those who refused to participate in "raggings" or group abuse were regarded as lacking loyalty.
Ostracism was dreaded: it denied recruits what little comfort could be grasped in an often alienating environment. As one soldier put it, it was "dangerous enough just fighting the acknowledged enemy". In the front line, of course, both abuse and fear of reporting abuse increase exponentially.
The British army prides itself on its professionalism and its discipline. Its adherence to codes of honourable behaviour in battle is central to the way the British army markets itself, particularly in opposition to other fighting forces (such as the Germans during the two world wars, and the Americans in the current conflict). But this image may be exploded as a result of the war in Iraq.
In all armies, the horror of battle can reduce inhibitions to atrocious behaviour. But this seems to be more likely on some battlefields than others. During the second world war, for example, British and American servicemen were significantly more likely to act in atrocious ways in the Pacific theatre of war compared with the European one. The guerrilla nature of warfare in the Pacific partly explained the greater willingness of soldiers to hit out blindly against enemy combatants and civilians alike. But racism also played a significant part. As drill instructors told recruits: "You're not going to Europe, you're going to the Pacific. Don't hesitate to fight the Japs dirty." Classifying the Japanese as inhuman meant they all became fair game.
In Iraq, too, it is hard to avoid the conclusion that racial and religious differences are fuelling much of the abuse being carried out by the occupying forces.
Refusing to participate in abuses, as well as reporting maltreatment, becomes extremely difficult in such contexts. Although servicemen and women are only required to obey lawful orders, immediate and total obedience is deeply ingrained. As one sergeant recalled after witnessing an atrocity in Vietnam: "There was no chance of ever having anything done, and I ... didn't want to get hassled or thrown into the brig ... I just tucked it away in some dead space ... and went on functioning."
The ethos promoted by army life and that accepted within civilian societies will always differ. What we have been seeing in Iraq, however, is the complete divorce between the two.
· Joanna Bourke is professor of history at Birkbeck College, London, and the author of Fear: A Cultural History
j.bourke@bbk.ac.uk
Officers who blame 'a few bad apples' ignore a culture of brutalisation
Joanna Bourke
Saturday February 26, 2005
Guardian
Stanley Kubrick's film Full Metal Jacket must rank as one of the grimmest portrayals of the Vietnam war. A leading character, dubbed "Joker", is asked why he volunteered; he replies: "[I] wanted to meet interesting, stimulating people from an ancient land ... and kill them." Confronted with the harrowing photographic evidence of abuse by British soldiers in Iraq, it is tempting to add the phrase "humiliate, sexually abuse, and torture" to this admission. We seem to have moved a long way from the promise of restoring democracy to the Iraqi people. Part of the war has been conducted at a court martial in the ancient German city of Osnabruck, where two soldiers of the Royal Regiment of Fusiliers have been found guilty of abusing civilian prisoners. A third soldier had already pleaded guilty to assault, after he was photographed standing on an Iraqi prisoner. It is not only these men who stood trial, but the British army itself. And for many people around the world, the British people also bear some responsibility.
Even before these convictions, the militant Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, who has been linked to al-Qaida, claimed that suicide attacks were "in response to the harm inflicted by British occupation forces on our brothers in prison". Given our army's record of abuse and torture in Malaya, Kenya, Aden, Cyprus, and Northern Ireland (to name just a few), is it any wonder that many people might react cynically to claims that justice has been done?
The evidence of abuse on British army premises in Iraq that was revealed during the trial indicates that something is seriously wrong with our armed forces. Rituals involving physical and psychological humiliation, as well as sexual abuse, are not confined to overseas operations, but are also present "at home". A survey carried out by the Ministry of Defence in 2002 found that more than 40% of British soldiers believed the army had a problem with bullying, sexual discrimination and harassment.
More recently, an official study claims that almost half the women serving in the RAF have been sexually harassed at some point in their career. And only yesterday, the Sun published photographs of members of the Queen's Guard apparently ritually humiliating a new recruit by tying him naked to a fence and pouring what appears to be manure over his head.
In addition, the claims of ritual humiliation and sexual abuse at Deepcut training camp, in Surrey, are profoundly disturbing. A police report into the barracks contained more than 100 allegations of serious abuse.
The fact that the army was aware of the repeated violent, predatory behaviour of men such as Lance Corporal Leslie Skinner (convicted in 2004 of a series of sexual attacks on young recruits) and Lance Corporal David Atkinson (who murdered Cambridge student Sally Geeson on New Year's Day), is another indictment of the institution.
The army insists that these are aberrations - a few "bad apples". But it is plausible to assume that bullying and abuse are more widespread than senior officers wish to admit. Within the barracks, a culture of silence prevails. Leslie Skinner's victims, for instance, said nothing for years. The reason for their reticence was that Skinner was "rank" and in the army "you do what you are told".
Unquestioning obedience is inculcated into every recruit. Basic training, from the donning of a uniform to being subjected to a relentless series of drills and chants, induces a lessening of self-awareness. Such a process of de-individuation can lead to the weakening of restraints against prohibited forms of behaviour. This is coupled with the fact that positive military values include aggression, dominance and overt displays of physical prowess. Sensitivity, understanding and compassion are routinely derided.
The "macho" culture in training barracks is shared by female soldiers too, many of whom become obsessed with the need to trounce the boys. And despite their enthusiasm, "GI Janes" often become targets of abuse.
During the Gulf war, much was made of the fact that two US servicewomen taken prisoner had been raped. What was less publicised was that 24 US servicewomen reported being raped or sexually assaulted by colleagues during the withdrawal of forces. Similarly, 29% of American women who served in Vietnam were victims of actual or attempted sexual assault.
Clearly, ethical and moral codes change in the conditions of military life. These altered standards, together with isolation from family and civilian networks, favour brutalisation.
So, too, does the general ambience of preparing for war. In the Falklands war of 1982, for instance, British soldiers on troop ships were shown violent pornographic films as a way of stimulating their aggression prior to battle. Young male recruits in particular were terrified of being derided as "queer" and "chicken". Those who refused to participate in "raggings" or group abuse were regarded as lacking loyalty.
Ostracism was dreaded: it denied recruits what little comfort could be grasped in an often alienating environment. As one soldier put it, it was "dangerous enough just fighting the acknowledged enemy". In the front line, of course, both abuse and fear of reporting abuse increase exponentially.
The British army prides itself on its professionalism and its discipline. Its adherence to codes of honourable behaviour in battle is central to the way the British army markets itself, particularly in opposition to other fighting forces (such as the Germans during the two world wars, and the Americans in the current conflict). But this image may be exploded as a result of the war in Iraq.
In all armies, the horror of battle can reduce inhibitions to atrocious behaviour. But this seems to be more likely on some battlefields than others. During the second world war, for example, British and American servicemen were significantly more likely to act in atrocious ways in the Pacific theatre of war compared with the European one. The guerrilla nature of warfare in the Pacific partly explained the greater willingness of soldiers to hit out blindly against enemy combatants and civilians alike. But racism also played a significant part. As drill instructors told recruits: "You're not going to Europe, you're going to the Pacific. Don't hesitate to fight the Japs dirty." Classifying the Japanese as inhuman meant they all became fair game.
In Iraq, too, it is hard to avoid the conclusion that racial and religious differences are fuelling much of the abuse being carried out by the occupying forces.
Refusing to participate in abuses, as well as reporting maltreatment, becomes extremely difficult in such contexts. Although servicemen and women are only required to obey lawful orders, immediate and total obedience is deeply ingrained. As one sergeant recalled after witnessing an atrocity in Vietnam: "There was no chance of ever having anything done, and I ... didn't want to get hassled or thrown into the brig ... I just tucked it away in some dead space ... and went on functioning."
The ethos promoted by army life and that accepted within civilian societies will always differ. What we have been seeing in Iraq, however, is the complete divorce between the two.
· Joanna Bourke is professor of history at Birkbeck College, London, and the author of Fear: A Cultural History
j.bourke@bbk.ac.uk