Making an Example of Ehren Watada

T he people running the Iraq war were eager to make an example of Ehren Watada at a court martial in February. But the man on trial set a profound example of conscience—helping to undermine the war that the Pentagon’s top officials are so eager to protect. “The judge in the case against the first U.S. officer court-martialed for refusing to ship out for Iraq barred several experts in international and constitutional law from testifying Monday [Feb. 5] about the legality of the war,” the Associated Press reported. 

While the judge was hopping through military hoops at Fort Lewis in Washington state, an outpouring of support for Watada at the gates reflected just how broad and deep the opposition to this war has become. However, the AP dispatch merely stated that “outside the base, a small group that included actor Sean Penn demonstrated in support of Watada.” But, in fact, several hundred people maintained an antiwar presence at the gates, where a vigil and rally—led by Iraq war veterans and parents of those sent to kill and be killed in this horrific war—mirrored what is happening in communities across the United States. 

In direct resistance to the depravity of the Bush administration as it escalates this war, Lieutenant Watada is taking a clear and uplifting position. Citing international law and the U.S. Constitution, he points out that the Iraq war is “manifestly illegal.” And he adds: “As the order to take part in an illegal act is ultimately unlawful as well, I must as an officer of honor and integrity refuse that order. It is my duty not to follow unlawful orders and not to participate in things I find morally reprehensible. My participation would make me party to war crimes.” 

Outside the fence at Fort Lewis the criminality of the war and the pain it has brought were heavy in the air. Darrell Anderson was a U.S. soldier in Iraq. He received a Purple Heart. Later, he refused orders to return for a second tour of duty. Now he gives firsthand accounts of the routine killing of Iraqi civilians. He speaks as an eyewitness and a participant in a war that is one long war crime. He makes a convincing case that “GI resistance is emerging and pivotal.” 

Also at Fort Lewis I met Carlos Arredondo. He’s traveling the country in a long black hearse-like station wagon with photos and letters from his son Alexander plastered on the sides of the vehicle. At age 20, Alexander died in Iraq. A conversation with Carlos Arredondo is likely to leave you in tears. “When the Marines came to inform Arredondo of his son’s death and stayed after he asked them to leave, he set their van on fire, burning over a quarter of his body in the process,” the Boston Globe reported. Carlos and his wife Melida are now members of Military Families Speak Out. 

Among the speakers at a nearby event the night before Watada’s court-martial was Helga Aguayo, whose husband Agustin is a U.S. Army medic now charged with desertion. After deployment to Iraq in 2004, he applied for recognition as a conscientious objector, without success. During his year in the war zone, he refused to put ammunition in his weapon. Today, despite a mistrial at his February hearing, Watada is facing up to four years in prison if the Army goes forward with a planned new court martial in March. 

Half of his potential sentence has to do with the fact that he made public statements against the war. The war-makers want such honest courage to stop. But it is growing every day.