Periodically we have the honor here of running someone else's writing/thinking with their permission. In this case, it's a longtime Navy vet who also served as a leader in the mythopoetic men's movement in the 80s and 90s, writing about warrior despair, suicide and the culturally healing power of ritual. This is the first of several pieces on the subject. Look for the others, which will appear shortly. Here goes:
"Perhaps only those who have been to the "Arena of the Gods" -- and have been capable, like the gods, of delivering death and destruction -- can understand the true costs of warfare on the soul.
Jonathan Shay, M.D., Ph.D. writes:
“Acts of war generate a profound gulf between the combatant
and the community he left behind. The veteran carries the taint of a killer, of
blood pollution...that many cultures respond to with purification rituals. Our
culture today denies the need for purification and provides none, even though
in the past it has done so.... In the medieval Christian church, everyone who
shed blood in war had to do penance. If you committed atrocities, you had to do
more penance, but even if you wore a white hat and were a perfect model of
proper conduct, you had to do penance. Most warrior societies, as well as many
not dominated by warfare, have historically had communal rites of purification
of the returning fighter after battle...”
An Israeli psychiatrist comments:
"It's important to understand the long-term
consequences of war and to minimize them," says Dr. Zahava Solomon, a professor of Psychiatric Epidemiology and Social Work and head of the Adler Research Center for Child Welfare And Protection in Israel.
“While
people tend to perceive war as only taking place on the battlefield," she says, " for many
the effects linger long after the battle is over.” "War does not end for a considerable portion of these individuals," she continues, "and relatively high rates of combatants continue to suffer from post-traumatic stress syndrome (PTSD) [an
anxiety disorder that can occur following the experience or witnessing of a
traumatic life-threatening event]. They continue to experience the war in
nightmares and flashbacks. We pretty much liken it to cancer of the soul,"
she said.
And finally, from a Christian leader's perspective:
“The reality of war is that everyone gets wounded. Some wounds heal rapidly, but some last for a lifetime. The reality is that the wounds of heart, soul and spirit have a spiritual component that is not being adequately addressed. Despite the valiant efforts of many organizations and the commitment of billions of dollars to address these issues, there remains a serious gap – the faith gap.” -- Major General Robert F. Dees, US Army (Retired), Executive Director, Military Ministry, from his introduction to "The Combat Trauma Healing Manual: Christ-Centered Solutions for Combat Trauma," by Chris Adsit.
A recent article by Barbara Barrett covered the work done by a Defense Department task force "devoted to preventing suicide in the military." According to the article, the task force presented 76 recommendations in four primary areas, and additionally made 13 "foundational" recommendations "considered vital to
developing a comprehensive Defense suicide prevention model." But none of these recommendations made any mention of the spirit or the soul, or more importantly, how to heal the souls of our returning warriors. Though our currency may say "In God We Trust," the military makes no acknowledgment of the soul of its warriors, and no provisions for their spiritual healing.
(Ironically, though, it does send warriors off with ceremony. Troops go into battle often accompanied by a chaplain, priest, or other "holy" person, who invokes a "spirit" to bless them in their mission - which in its own way is usurping their opponents' right to life and death.)
We lament as a nation that so many of our warriors are committing suicide. But at the same time, we ignore the need for any healing rituals for our returning warriors. There is no balm in Gilead for the sin-sick souls. If we can't look to VA or DOD for methods that embrace ritual, perhaps we need to take a look at indigenous peoples in other cultures, or even a few years back in our own.
In the 80s and 90s in this country, men came together in “mythopoetic
gatherings,” doing ritual to help veterans and others heal the soul wounds of
the Vietnam war. A sacred space was established and the men used storytelling, poetry, music and movement to explore their path to healing. These gatherings were led by Robert Bly, James Hillman, Michael Meade and others, and I was privileged to be a part of them as an elder.
In some of the gatherings, Meade would tell what was known as a "dilemma story." The men would then choose sides and state their case for the correctness of their positions in an attempt to resolve the dilemma. The ebb and flow of discussion often became heated. The ritual of the dilemma story became a container to hold the anger and angst of the discussion. Even though there was anger, sadness and confusion, the dilemma story remained in the Sacred Space, a container within a container, which guaranteed safety.
According to Meade, when a large group of men gather, there are two questions that reside in the limbic brain (commonly called the lizard brain). “Is someone going to be killed?” and “Is that someone me?” When the lizard brain is able to resolve these questions in the affirmative, the man could begin to participate in the gathering.
In 1992, Native American medicine men traveled from East coast tribes, Midwest tribes and Western tribes to San Francisco to hold a gathering of men. Those men, many of them veterans, participated in ritual alongside these medicine men, using rituals the medicine men brought from their tribal cultures. During this time as well, there were stories of an increasing number of veterans committing suicide.
The returning warriors from the Vietnam war had fought in combat as a tribe, but then were returned "unceremoniously" stateside, rotated out individually, when their service was ended or when they were discharged -- to no fanfare whatsoever, and to a land that had become different since they left. Little if any attention was paid toward establishing a ceremony, much less a ritual, to help the souls of these warriors, women and men. And the results of this neglectful in-action are still evident in our society. The Vietnam war is a gaping wound in our collective consciousness, and the residual guilt has become one of the reasons why returning OIF/OEF warriors are being welcomed slightly more warmly than their Vietnam war fathers were.
One of the prominent medicine men who helped to establish sacred space and ritualize a healing process was Malidoma Somé. In his book, “Ritual: Power, Healing and Community,” he recounts a ritual done specifically for healing the internal wounds of Vietnam.
As a participant in that ritual, I recently revisited
Malidoma’s writings, and the grief that was expressed. While as one of the Elders of the Gathering, I can say that is was one of the most powerful moments in my life. It is my feeling now, that those of us in a leadership role, did not realize the depth of grief men had about the war, and it transferred into the ritual. I believe every man in that gathering went away with a deep knowledge of how powerful ritual is."