"Americans like to imagine ourselves as citizens of a democracy that rejects the colonial ambitions of Old World powers like France and the UK. And yet we've deployed troops to literally most of the planet, and our leading lawmakers -- tasked by the Constitution with the exclusive right to declare war -- don't even know about it." (Photo: Kenny Holston 21/Flickr)
A U.S. Soldier Died in Niger. What on Earth Are We Doing There?
When our soldiers kill and die in wars we don’t know about and can’t end, we’re not a democracy anymore.
In our military-revering culture, it's a strange thing for a president to start a war of words with the grieving families of slain soldiers.
Strange, yes. But from Donald Trump's campaign season feud with the parents of Humayun Khan, who died protecting fellow soldiers in Iraq, to his recent feud with the mourning widow of La David Johnson, who died on patrol in Niger, it's no longer surprising.
At root in the latest spat is a comment Trump made to La David's widow Myeshia Johnson: "He knew what he signed up for." Myeshia thought that remark was disrespectful -- she later said it "made me cry."
Beyond insensitive, though, there's a good chance it simply wasn't true.
Why, after all, should La David have expected to die in a dusty corner of Niger -- a Saharan country most Americans (and, one suspects, their president) couldn't find on a map? And where the U.S. isn't actually at war?
If you were surprised to learn the U.S. has nearly a thousand troops in Niger, you're not alone. Senator Lindsey Graham, a South Carolina Republican who serves on the Armed Forces Committee, told NBC he "had no idea." Neither did Chuck Schumer, the Senate's top Democrat.
Well, the surprises may keep coming.
The New York Times notes tthat the U.S. now has "over 240,000 active-duty and reserve troops in at least 172 countries and territories." Count it again: 172 countries, out of 193 UN member states.
Most of us remain at least dimly aware that we still have thousands of troops in war zones like Iraq and Afghanistan, as well as in Cold War outposts like Japan, South Korea, and Germany. But what about the 160-plus others? And where are the nearly 38,000 troops whose location the Pentagon lists as "unknown"?
We catch an occasional glimpse of this global footprint when a U.S. service member dies someplace surprising -- as Ryan Owens did earlier this year in Yemen, and a Navy SEAL did several months later in Somalia. More rarely we catch darker reminders still, when our wars abroad come home in the form of terrorist attacks. But mostly the American people remain every bit as in the dark as Graham and Schumer.
Americans like to imagine ourselves as citizens of a democracy that rejects the colonial ambitions of Old World powers like France and the UK. And yet we've deployed troops to literally most of the planet, and our leading lawmakers -- tasked by the Constitution with the exclusive right to declare war -- don't even know about it.
Worse still, Congress appears to be abetting its own irrelevance.
Earlier this year, House Speaker Paul Ryan quietly killed an amendment by Democrat Barbara Lee that would've revoked Congress' post-9/11 Authorization of Military Force, which has been used as a fig leaf of legality for this global war making. And last month the Senate voted 2:1 to reject an amendment from Republican Rand Paul that would've done the same.
Odds are, the real victims from our post-9/11 wars live in countries we seldom see or hear about. But as veteran and Army strategist Danny Sjursen writes, "the potential, and all too pervasive, deaths of American service members demand a public hearing" too. Especially when 16-plus years of war doesn't appear to have made the world any safer.
When our soldiers kill and die in fruitless wars we don't know about and can't end, we're not a democracy anymore -- we're an empire. And perhaps a fading one at that.
Urgent. It's never been this bad.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission from the outset was simple. To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It’s never been this bad out there. And it’s never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed and doing some of its best and most important work, the threats we face are intensifying. Right now, with just three days to go in our Spring Campaign, we're falling short of our make-or-break goal. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Can you make a gift right now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? There is no backup plan or rainy day fund. There is only you. —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
In our military-revering culture, it's a strange thing for a president to start a war of words with the grieving families of slain soldiers.
Strange, yes. But from Donald Trump's campaign season feud with the parents of Humayun Khan, who died protecting fellow soldiers in Iraq, to his recent feud with the mourning widow of La David Johnson, who died on patrol in Niger, it's no longer surprising.
At root in the latest spat is a comment Trump made to La David's widow Myeshia Johnson: "He knew what he signed up for." Myeshia thought that remark was disrespectful -- she later said it "made me cry."
Beyond insensitive, though, there's a good chance it simply wasn't true.
Why, after all, should La David have expected to die in a dusty corner of Niger -- a Saharan country most Americans (and, one suspects, their president) couldn't find on a map? And where the U.S. isn't actually at war?
If you were surprised to learn the U.S. has nearly a thousand troops in Niger, you're not alone. Senator Lindsey Graham, a South Carolina Republican who serves on the Armed Forces Committee, told NBC he "had no idea." Neither did Chuck Schumer, the Senate's top Democrat.
Well, the surprises may keep coming.
The New York Times notes tthat the U.S. now has "over 240,000 active-duty and reserve troops in at least 172 countries and territories." Count it again: 172 countries, out of 193 UN member states.
Most of us remain at least dimly aware that we still have thousands of troops in war zones like Iraq and Afghanistan, as well as in Cold War outposts like Japan, South Korea, and Germany. But what about the 160-plus others? And where are the nearly 38,000 troops whose location the Pentagon lists as "unknown"?
We catch an occasional glimpse of this global footprint when a U.S. service member dies someplace surprising -- as Ryan Owens did earlier this year in Yemen, and a Navy SEAL did several months later in Somalia. More rarely we catch darker reminders still, when our wars abroad come home in the form of terrorist attacks. But mostly the American people remain every bit as in the dark as Graham and Schumer.
Americans like to imagine ourselves as citizens of a democracy that rejects the colonial ambitions of Old World powers like France and the UK. And yet we've deployed troops to literally most of the planet, and our leading lawmakers -- tasked by the Constitution with the exclusive right to declare war -- don't even know about it.
Worse still, Congress appears to be abetting its own irrelevance.
Earlier this year, House Speaker Paul Ryan quietly killed an amendment by Democrat Barbara Lee that would've revoked Congress' post-9/11 Authorization of Military Force, which has been used as a fig leaf of legality for this global war making. And last month the Senate voted 2:1 to reject an amendment from Republican Rand Paul that would've done the same.
Odds are, the real victims from our post-9/11 wars live in countries we seldom see or hear about. But as veteran and Army strategist Danny Sjursen writes, "the potential, and all too pervasive, deaths of American service members demand a public hearing" too. Especially when 16-plus years of war doesn't appear to have made the world any safer.
When our soldiers kill and die in fruitless wars we don't know about and can't end, we're not a democracy anymore -- we're an empire. And perhaps a fading one at that.
In our military-revering culture, it's a strange thing for a president to start a war of words with the grieving families of slain soldiers.
Strange, yes. But from Donald Trump's campaign season feud with the parents of Humayun Khan, who died protecting fellow soldiers in Iraq, to his recent feud with the mourning widow of La David Johnson, who died on patrol in Niger, it's no longer surprising.
At root in the latest spat is a comment Trump made to La David's widow Myeshia Johnson: "He knew what he signed up for." Myeshia thought that remark was disrespectful -- she later said it "made me cry."
Beyond insensitive, though, there's a good chance it simply wasn't true.
Why, after all, should La David have expected to die in a dusty corner of Niger -- a Saharan country most Americans (and, one suspects, their president) couldn't find on a map? And where the U.S. isn't actually at war?
If you were surprised to learn the U.S. has nearly a thousand troops in Niger, you're not alone. Senator Lindsey Graham, a South Carolina Republican who serves on the Armed Forces Committee, told NBC he "had no idea." Neither did Chuck Schumer, the Senate's top Democrat.
Well, the surprises may keep coming.
The New York Times notes tthat the U.S. now has "over 240,000 active-duty and reserve troops in at least 172 countries and territories." Count it again: 172 countries, out of 193 UN member states.
Most of us remain at least dimly aware that we still have thousands of troops in war zones like Iraq and Afghanistan, as well as in Cold War outposts like Japan, South Korea, and Germany. But what about the 160-plus others? And where are the nearly 38,000 troops whose location the Pentagon lists as "unknown"?
We catch an occasional glimpse of this global footprint when a U.S. service member dies someplace surprising -- as Ryan Owens did earlier this year in Yemen, and a Navy SEAL did several months later in Somalia. More rarely we catch darker reminders still, when our wars abroad come home in the form of terrorist attacks. But mostly the American people remain every bit as in the dark as Graham and Schumer.
Americans like to imagine ourselves as citizens of a democracy that rejects the colonial ambitions of Old World powers like France and the UK. And yet we've deployed troops to literally most of the planet, and our leading lawmakers -- tasked by the Constitution with the exclusive right to declare war -- don't even know about it.
Worse still, Congress appears to be abetting its own irrelevance.
Earlier this year, House Speaker Paul Ryan quietly killed an amendment by Democrat Barbara Lee that would've revoked Congress' post-9/11 Authorization of Military Force, which has been used as a fig leaf of legality for this global war making. And last month the Senate voted 2:1 to reject an amendment from Republican Rand Paul that would've done the same.
Odds are, the real victims from our post-9/11 wars live in countries we seldom see or hear about. But as veteran and Army strategist Danny Sjursen writes, "the potential, and all too pervasive, deaths of American service members demand a public hearing" too. Especially when 16-plus years of war doesn't appear to have made the world any safer.
When our soldiers kill and die in fruitless wars we don't know about and can't end, we're not a democracy anymore -- we're an empire. And perhaps a fading one at that.