Pfc Lynndie England beat the wrap in the Abu Ghraib trial, and I’m not sure whether that’s a good or bad thing.
An Army judge Wednesday ended the court martial trial of England — the woman who became the poster child for Iraqi prison abuse — saying that her guilty plea was not believable. Under military law, the judge could not accept England’s plea unless he was convinced she knew she was committing an illegal act. England first claimed she was only following orders, but said Monday that she knew her actions were wrong.
Why might this be a bad thing?
England finally admitted she was wrong, and the judge said “I don’t believe you.”
Having served in the Army during a deployment, I can understand how a situation like Abu Ghraib could spin out of control but not how a person wouldn’t know it was wrong.
In the Army, maintaining the integrity of the chain of command is paramount. If a soldier given a lawful order by someone senior, that soldier is expected to follow it. There is no tolerance for disobeying a lawful order, especially during wartime. This is essential because a wayward soldier making an independent decision could cost lives. The military works best when everyone is on the same page. Drill sergeants are fond of saying “we are here to defend democracy not practice it.”
You’ll notice that I was careful to note that you are duty bound to obey a lawful order. The military also makes that distinction because if you receive an unlawful order, you are also duty bound not to follow it. That’s part of your instruction during basic training. Moreover, if you do receive an unlawful order, you should report the person dispensing those unlawful orders. Those are the rules.
So England now says that she thought she was receiving a lawful order. Everyone was doing it. She didn’t receive training. It was war. He was older. Blah Blah Blah.
The Army shouldn’t need to tell you that putting a naked man on a leash and taking a picture with him is wrong. You should have received that block of training from your Mama. That’s called home training.
I can’t imagine any conditions under which I would let somebody, of any rank, talk me into doing what England did. And if any child of mine ever did, the Army wouldn’t need to discipline him — at least not until I got first crack at him. They can have what’s left after I’m done with him.
How many times have you heard a mother say, “I don’t care how many people are doing it. If they all jumped off a cliff, would you follow them?”
Well they all jumped off a cliff and England followed them. She was clearly wrong, and she knew it. That she might not experience any consequences of her actions is a bad thing.
Why might it be a good thing?
It could force the Army to confront the systemic problem of leadership. It was no surprise to anyone familiar with military culture that the only people prosecuted were enlisted, and lower enlisted to boot. These are the people at the bottom of the scale in terms of pay, responsibility, training, and everything else. Yet, they carry all the weight in this scandal.
When an enlisted crew does outstanding work, every officer in their chain of command falls over themselves to take credit for the “inspirational leadership that created the conditions for success.” When things go awry, that same leadership should also be accountable. If that happens, it would be a good thing.
My college professor used to say, “ambivalence is watching your mother-in-law drive off a cliff in your brand new BMW.”
Watching England potentially go free elicits the same emotions.
