Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Understanding Chivalry as a Historic Phenomenon

The word “chivalry” evokes a powerful emotional response from both historians and the public.  The most common image is that of the medieval knight on horseback in mail armor, colorful surcoat, bearing a shield blazoned with heraldic symbols, and wielding a heavy lance couched against his side while charging the enemy.  This image of martial prowess frequently accompanies vague notions of a code of honor or romantic inclinations, which require the knight to defend the honor of ladies, to be honest and generous, and to act with “honor”.  Historians have equally muddled conceptions of chivalry and its role in European history from the Eleventh centuries on, arguing over when it became a widespread conception, when it fell into disuse, and the relative importance of chivalry’s martial, religious, and courtly overtones.  When and how chivalry declined is a contentious issue – at stake is whether its lofty ideals were abandoned almost immediately, or persist to the present day.

Chivalry is difficult to define.  The common working definition contains three elements that inform each other: the military expertise of medieval heavy cavalry, the social group dedicated to military service as heavy cavalry, and the codes of conduct and courtly behavior associated with this social group.[i]  Jeremy duQuesnay Adams contends that American and British historians focus on the first and third definitions of chivalry, but that French historians place higher emphasis on the first and second definitions of chivalry, dropping the third meaning from serious consideration. 

Three classic works illustrate the change in the historiography of chivalry after 1884.  Leon Gautier insisted that chivalry was an ideal of Christian military service rather than an institution.[ii]  The chivalric ideal resulted from the combination of the ancient Germanic coming of age ceremony described by Tacitus and the moral value assigned by the Medieval Church, an argument echoed by Richard Barber over a century later.[iii]  This chivalric ideal developed into an eighth sacrament of the Medieval Church with its own virtues and unique set of commandments, resulting in a brotherhood of equals among all knights.[iv]

During the Interwar period, French and English historians reinterpreted chivalry as the medieval system of knighthood and associated codes of conduct rather than an ideal of Christian military service, and extended its duration to include the fifteenth century.[v]  Relying on literary sources, Johan Huizinga contended that by the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, chivalry decayed as both an institution and ideal.  Despite warrior classes’ universal need for a masculine ideal of perfection that embraces combat, honor, and romantic love, chivalry was merely a screen to justify violence and selfishness.  As the ideal faltered over time, the screening pageantry became more excessive and ridiculous.[vi] 

Raymond Lincoln Kilgore expands this theme, arguing that French literature clearly shows increasingly ludicrous displays of chivalric fancy.  Kilgore finds the seeds of chivalric decay almost to the origin of the ideal itself, which grew from a merely military and feudal cult of honor to become the “noble” code of gentlemanly behavior.  The Church’s use of chivalry as a form of religious ordination made the ideal even more difficult to achieve.[vii]  The chivalric ideal quickly faltered, with material gain replacing religion as a motivating factor in the knightly ethos, as illustrated by the sack of Byzantium during the Fourth Crusade.

Huizinga and Kilgore argue that by the fourteenth century, chivalry was little more than an excessive system of courtly etiquette, which included contests involving grandiose displays of politeness, vows, and formal challenges.  Relying on displays such as Edward III’s challenge to Philippe de Valois for the crown of France, Kilgore argues that empty vows and challenges are the prime indicator of the decadence of late medieval chivalry.  The purpose of the elaborate charade was to allow participants to avoid the reality of war, political intrigues, and the corruption of the Medieval Church.[viii]  Malcolm Vale agrees with these earlier interpretations, contending that while chivalry did have a role in creating the laws of war and international law, its primary value was as a collective dream with a strong ethical component continuing as late as the fifteenth century.[ix]

The work of Georges Duby provides a prominent example of postwar French development in the social history of chivalry.  Relying on social science methodology with etymology as a primary analytical tool, Duby traces changes in the words miles and nobilis, used to describe both warriors and members of the French nobility, from the tenth through thirteenth centuries.  The first use of miles to indicate knighthood appears in 971 A.D.  By 1032 A.D. miles is becoming a substitute for vassus and fidelis, indicating that the mounted warriors indicated by miles are becoming the loyal vassals of French lords.[x]  When Urban II proclaimed the First Crusade at the end of the eleventh century, the highest nobles describe themselves as miles, using the word to describe entire family groups, retaining the word nobilis to describe aristocratic non-combatants.  Duby argues that the use of a common title and adoption of common social values by high and low nobility indicates a flattening of social differences.[xi]

The development of the knightly class of feudal society dominated the postwar discussion of chivalry among French historians, creating two competing understandings of the development of the chivalric class.  The Germanists, who argue that the class evolved from Merovingian and Roman sources of nobility, and the Romanists, who argue that chivalry was the creation of new men whose primary qualification was ability for combat.  These schools find a common interpretive framework in Duby’s depiction of the chivalric social class as a combination of older nobility and warriors emerging from the lower levels of society.[xii] 

In the last quarter of the twentieth century, historians challenged Huizinga’s and Kilgore’s theses of chivalry’s decay and decadence.  In 1974, John Barnie contended that modern historians who found its values incomprehensible, and were familiar with clerical and romantic texts rather than the mentalite of its practitioners misunderstood chivalry.[xiii]  Rejecting Huizinga and Kilgore’s assertions that the discrepancy between the battlefield behavior of knights and the codes found in treatises is evidence of decline and decay of the chivalric ideal, Barnie argues that their argument is based on the misplaced assumption that actual military behavior had to precisely align with Church doctrine and fictional descriptions.[xiv]  Despite the difficulty in living up to the extremes of the chivalric ideal, each generation has its exemplars of chivalry who accomplished just that – Godfrey of Bouillon, St. Louis, and Henry of Gosmont, Duke of Lancaster.  This last example shows that even in the fourteenth century, the upper reaches of the English nobility took the traditional codes of chivalry seriously, as Henry of Gosmont fought to defend the faith as a Crusader in Lithuania, Cyprus, and Rhodes.  Young knights scrambled to serve under Henry due to his reputation as a dedicated Crusading figure rather than his success during the Hundred Years War.[xv]

Rather than focusing on romantic literature, Barnie believes that fourteenth century tracts on war provide a better idea of the eclectic chivalry practiced in the field.  Their discussions of rules of just war, points of honor, and strategy are not evidence of a decline in chivalry, but an example of the pragmatic use of chivalric ideals.[xvi]  When evaluated through the lens of honor provided by this evidence, excesses such as the Black Prince hosting the captured King John of France after the Battle of Poitiers and serving him at a banquet due to his higher rank, become part of the ideal of chivalry rather than a symptom of decadence or decay.[xvii]

Social historian Maurice Keen moved away from analyzing words and literary usage to focus on the pragmatic reasons for the three accepted aspects of chivalry, arguing that the military and social aspects of chivalry needed each other.[xviii]  The key question in Keen’s interpretation is whether chivalry was ever more than just the social forms that its detractors claim.  He contends that even during the Middle Ages, people used the word chivalry with multiple meanings and nuances.  In different settings, chivalry referred to: a body of cavalry, orders of knighthood, a social class, or the ideal code of behavior for all three.[xix]

Keen examines three medieval works on knighthood, including the anonymous Orderne de chevalerie of the first half of the thirteenth century, Ramon Lull’s Libre de ordre de cavarleria of the fourteenth century, and Geoffroi de Charny’s mid-fourteenth century Livre de chevalerie to track changes in the ethos of chivalry.  All three works rely heavily on the Christian symbolism of knighthood, but espouse an expanding array of chivalric virtues.  Where the Orderne touts the premier importance of loyalty and virtue, Lull adds avoiding pride and idleness to the virtues, and the duties of defending the Church, training sons to knighthood, and pursuing criminals.  Charny provides the most comprehensive vision of chivalry, equating the order of chivalry with religious vocation.[xx]

Beyond reviewing the changing ideals demonstrated by these manuals, Keen examines the technology of warfare to find social reasons for the development of chivalry.  He finds this in the Chanson de Roland and the Bayeaux Tapestry.  The Chanson de Roland, dated between 1100-1300 A.D. depicts the earliest known cavalry charge using couched lances, while the Bayeaux Tapestry, a rendering of the Battle of Hastings in 1066 A.D., illustrates four methods of using spears while mounted.[xxi]  The new method of using the lance drove the development of chivalry in France and elsewhere.  This fighting method, pioneered by the Normans was not widespread until after 1140 A.D.[xxii]

Using the heavy couched lance rather than the lighter spear radically altered the equipment cavalrymen required for fighting and surviving.  Heavy mail hauberks, helms, improved saddles, additional horses, and retainers to care for it were expensive.  In France, knights and petty nobility needed the access to the wealth of the greater nobility, who needed the knights to serve as elite troops and officers because of the constant warfare among themselves.  The seigneurial courts where the knights gathered with the greater nobility were the sources of the chivalric ideals of courtly and battlefield behavior found in treatises on knighthood.  The diaspora of French knights to England, Italy, Spain, and the Holy Land during the eleventh and twelfth centuries rapidly spread these ideals throughout Europe.[xxiii]

Having provided a concrete explanation for the secular development and later religious cooption of chivalry, Keen addresses the Huizinga school’s assertion that by fourteenth century it had fallen into decay and decline.  War dominated European life in this era in the same way it had in the tenth and eleventh centuries, ensuring that society focused on martial themes.  Determining whether the chivalric practices of European nobility were decadent requires more than an examination of apparent excess in literary sources, but also analysis of the risks taken on by this social class.[xxiv] 

Although battles between armies were rare during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, when they occurred the losing side suffered extraordinary casualties.  At Poitiers (1356), Courtrai (1302), and Halidon Hill (1333) approximately 40% of the losing force died in combat.  The casualties were almost exclusively men from the chivalric order – knights and squires.[xxv]  Beyond risk in the field, chivalric ideals played important social and political roles.  Men at arms equipped themselves at high cost – a single warhorse costing the equivalent of half a years’ wages – and provided their own training.  Nobles also used their chivalric lifestyles to attract and retain their own followers who accompanied them on campaign in the service of their lords.[xxvi]  Even the drive for individual distinction served a social purpose in this milieu – the chance of enhanced social status encouraged young men of the chivalric order to pursue martial skills that society needed them to possess.

These truths lead Keen to argue that Huizinga, Kilgore, and Vale are wrong in their assertion that chivalry was declining and decadent during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.[xxvii]  Relying on romantic literature, Jennifer R. Goodman extends Keen’s argument into the Age of Discovery, arguing that rather than disappearing during the fifteenth century, chivalric ideals drove European exploration into the seventeenth century.[xxviii]  She finds a deep connection between the Medieval chivalric ideal in the literature surrounding Marco Polo, Henry the Navigator, and Cortes.  Evidence for chivalry as a contributing factor to exploration include Henry the Navigator’s planned Crusade to North Africa and Bartolome de las Casas’ suggestion for a chivalric order to reform the behavior of conquistadors.[xxix]

Goodman asserts that Huizinga and other detractors of late Medieval and Renaissance chivalry do so in order to preserve the Renaissance as a distinct period from the Middle Ages, drawing on Petrarch’s designation of the Renaissance period as a rebirth of culture.  Huizinga needed chivalry to decline in order to support his greater thesis – that the Middle Ages are on the wane before the dawning of the Renaissance.  To achieve this, Goodman argues, required Huizinga to ignore the primary evidence that tournaments and other chivalric activities continue into the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.[xxx]

Chivalry is an important concept beyond the confines of France, England, and Spain.  The German incarnation of the chivalric ideal differed significantly from the rest of Europe.  During the tenth and eleventh centuries, the Holy Roman Empire needed servants as administrators, leading to the development of unfree “serf-knights” based on the castellan.  These imperial servants labored under many of the same restrictions as French and English serfs, not having the right to change their allegiance or dispose of their lands.  Providing both administrative and military service, the serf-knights gained power and prestige based on their ties to their feudal lords.  Because they were unable to switch allegiances, German serf-knights were more trusted than their French counterparts, and acted as a source of stability for their lords.  German knighthood did not gain social awareness of itself until the twelfth century.[xxxi]

Moorish Spain also developed a unique chivalry, which flourished during the eleventh century.  In contrast to the French model, Moorish knights did not develop a distinctive outward style, having no heraldry or tournaments.  Moorish chivalry included ideals of military prowess and honor, and developed its own distinctive doctrines of chivalric love based on Islam.  The teachings of Mohammed and the fundamental opposition of sexes inherent in Islam provide the basis of both Muslim polygamy and chivalric love.  Like Christian chivalric codes, Muslim codes emphasized charity, generosity, and fearlessness.[xxxii]

Finally, chivalry was not a uniquely European or Mediterranean conception.  China’s knight-errant, or yu-hsia, was not an exact analogue to the Christian or Muslim chivalric knight, but it remains a useful analytical tool for examining the similarities and difference between Eastern and Western cultures.  Appearing during the period of the Warring States between 403-221 B.C., the knights-errant took justice into their own hands, generally in an altruistic fashion, as a reaction to the chaos of the period.[xxxiii]

Unlike the European knight, the Chinese knight-errant had no ties to established religion.  Instead, they stood in opposition to the dominant Confucian ideal by extending their concepts of duty and honor to cover both family and strangers.  Rather than fulfilling only the strict requirements of “yi”, the knights-errant extended it to mean doing more than strictly necessary to fulfill the bounds of honor.  Where Confucians valued moderation and solidarity, the yu-hsia, leaned toward extremism and freedom.[xxxiv]

There is significant debate over the social class of the Chinese knights-errant.  One view holds that they did not constitute a class, but were only independent men who acted chivalrously, while others argue that they were unemployed artisans that became soldiers, or that they represent a segment of Chinese society located between the nobility and serfs.  Regardless of social status, the yu-hsia had neither lands to support them, nor feudal obligations to superiors.

The historical and cultural debate over the meaning and reality of chivalry continues.  Recent works examine the relationship between chivalry and development of military professionalism, the role of chivalry in American popular culture, and the influence of chivalry on the American Civil War.  Twenty-first century military science fiction continues to draw on the imagery and language of chivalry, with the main character of John Ringo’s The Last Centurion claiming that he and his fellow soldiers conceive of themselves as “paladins” during their military service.  Clearly, the influence of the chivalric ideal continues to echo in the modern world.




[i] Adams, Jeremy duQuesnay “Modern Views of Chivalry, 1884-1984,” The Study of Chivalry: Resources and Practices, eds. Howell Chickering and Thomas Seiler (New York: Simon and Schuster 1988), 41-89.
[ii] Adams, 46.
[iii] Barber, Richard. The Knight and Chivalry, revised edition (Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 1995), 4.
[iv] Adams, 47.
[v] Adams, 50.
[vi] Ibid, 52.
[vii] Kilgore, Raymond Lincoln. The Decline of Chivalry as Shown in French Literature of the Late Middle Ages (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1937), 4.
[viii] Kilgore, 9-11.
[ix] Vale, Malcolm. War and Chivalry: Warfare and Aristocratic Culture in England, France, and Burgundy at the nd of the Middle Ages (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1981), 8-10.
[x] Duby, Georges. The Chivalrous Society trans. Cynthia Poston. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1977), 158.
[xi] Ibid, 161.
[xii] Adams, 56. Duby, 167.
[xiii] Barnie, John. War in Medieval English Society: Social Values in the Hundred Years War, 1337-1399 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1974), 56.
[xiv] Ibid, 57-58.
[xv] Ibid, 59.
[xvi] Ibid, 67.
[xvii] Ibid, 79-82.
[xviii] Adams, 71.
[xix] Keen, Maurice. Chivalry (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1984), 2.
[xx] Ibid, 6-12.
[xxi] Ibid, 26-28.
[xxii] Barber, 6-7.
[xxiii] Ibid, 28.
[xxiv] Ibid, 219.
[xxv] Ibid, 222.
[xxvi] Keen, 224-226.
[xxvii] Ibid, 237.
[xxviii] Goodman, Jennifer R. Chivalry and Exploration, 1298-1630 (Woodbridge: Boydell Press, 1998), 4-5.
[xxix] Goodman, 22.
[xxx] Ibid, 18-20.
[xxxi] Keen, 34-37.
[xxxii] Burckhardt, Titus. Moorish Culture in Spain, trans. Alisa Jaffa (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1972), 93-94, 108.
[xxxiii] Lin, James J. Y. The Chinese Knight-Errant (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1967), 1.
[xxxiv] Ibid, 8.

Monday, January 23, 2017

Religion, Chivalry, and the American Experience in Vietnam

Despite the prevailing image of the modern American soldier as a dedicated professional bound by a code of behavior, the United States Army and Marine Corps continue to struggle with the reality of war crimes against civilians and combatants alike.  Explanations for the breakdowns in discipline war crimes represent focus on the dehumanization of the enemy, training to obey orders without question, frustration at the inability to engage the enemy in set-piece battles, and the desire for vengeance.  One factor missing from explanations for the continued occurrence of war crimes is that of religious difference between the perpetrators of war crimes and of their targets.  The issue of religion is multifaceted, having roles of self and group identification and as a belief system.  Both facets may play a significant role in the likelihood of individual soldiers’ involvement in war crimes against civilians.

Examining the responses of American paratroopers, William Cockerham and Lawrence Cohen argue that soldiers most committed to the military, soldiers who receive the most training designed to instill blind obedience, and soldiers from rural areas or the American South were most likely to obey an illegal order, even after Lt. William Calley’s conviction for failing to refuse the illegal orders of his commanding officer at My Lai.  Despite a high correlation of these factors and a soldiers’ willingness to obey an illegal order, Cockerham and Cohen acknowledge enough variance in attitude among the soldiers of the United States Army regarding illegal orders that there are obviously other factors involved.  Personal religious beliefs of the soldiers are an obvious variable missing from their study.[i]

Michael Bernhardt’s testimony before the Peers Commission regarding the My Lai Massacre provides additional insight into the social and behavioral sources of war crimes.  Bernhardt testified that the soldiers at My Lai viewed the Vietnamese as less than human due to cultural differences, and an inability to communicate.[ii]  Charlie Company’s soldiers learned these values through their experiences in Vietnam, through the tutelage of their commanding officer Ernst Medina, and through their preparatory training.  They were taught that the Vietnamese were less than human, culturally and biologically less valuable than Americans, one soldier reports, “throughout training they emphasized the animalness of the Vietnamese.  They were sub-human we were told.  We could do anything we wanted to them when we got there.”[iii]  The profoundly negative feeling found in these statements had far reaching effects, not only in terms of war crimes, but also in the ability to select soldiers or Marines for missions.  Bing West contends that when the Marine Corps created the first experimental Combined Action Platoon, which relied on close cooperation between Marines and local village militias, personnel selection was a problem.  General Lewis W. Walt insisted that the unit consists only of Marines who interacted well with Vietnamese, but surveys showed that at least forty percent of Marines actively disliked them.  The problem was particularly acute among junior officers and NCOs that led small units.[iv] 

When combined with Patricia Hill’s promotion of religion as an analytical tool for the cultural approach to diplomatic history at the state level this provides insight into how and why the analysis of the social and cultural bases for war crimes should include a systematic analysis of the religious views of private soldiers and their leaders.  If the missionary family origins of the leaders of the Cold War State Department influenced how they managed Cold War relations, religion might certainly exert an effect on the actions and perceptions of soldiers in combat.[v]

The work of social scientists into measuring religiosity and its affects on American attitudes and behaviors provide an entrée for evaluating it in the historical context.  James D. Davidson argues that different types of religious beliefs have a direct relationship to the individual’s conduct.  Religious belief fell into two categories, vertical belief which focuses on the transcendent aspects of belief and humanity’s place in that order, and horizontal belief which focuses on relationships with people.  Davidson found that individuals exhibiting a high level of vertical belief were most likely to derive comfort from their faith, while those exhibiting high levels of horizontal belief were most likely to become socially active due to religious belief.[vi]

The question, then, is what role does religion play in the likelihood soldiers will commit atrocities.  If religious variance plays a role is the primary motivating factor one of identification of civilians as “other” due to religious identification, or does religious belief itself provide the motivating factor?  Based on Michael Barnhardt’s testimony, it is reasonable to assume that group identification is the primary religious factor in creating the dehumanization necessary for soldiers to commit atrocities.  However, research into the complex relationship between religiosity and prejudice demonstrates a significantly more complex phenomenon at work.

The relationship between religiosity and prejudice, hence dehumanization of “enemy” civilians, is poorly understood.  Measuring religiosity is problematic.  How the variables “religiosity” and “prejudice” are defined and used in research instruments create wide-ranging variance in results, resulting in reports of positive relationships between religiosity and prejudice, negative relationships between religiosity and prejudice, or varied relationships between the two.[vii]  By using narrowly defined measures of both religiosity and prejudice and measuring each independently, Cygnar, Noel, and Jacobson, found that three standard measures of religiosity – orthodoxy, ritual, and knowledge – did not have a statistically significant relationship with indicators of prejudice.  However, two other standard measures of religiosity – fanaticism and importance – bore a significant relationship to expressions of prejudice.[viii]  It appears, then, that a definite relationship between religiosity and prejudice exists.  The relationship between these two factors is not definitive.  The variance between measures of religiosity and measures of prejudice clearly shows that individuals defined as religious are not a homogenous group.  Further, the manner in which measures are defined may influence the interpretation of results – religiosity follows the present theology, meaning that both the outward display of religion and the content of belief must be part of any analysis.[ix]

Ronald Palosari, who served in the infamous Americal Division from 1967 to 1968, reported atrocities performed by soldiers of that division based on the perceived religious beliefs of the enemy.  In an incident recounted during his testimony at the controversial Winter Soldier Investigation in 1971, Palosari claimed that members of the Civilian Independent Defense Group had cut an ear off a dead North Vietnamese Army soldier.  Their rationale was that of the commonly understood stereotype of trophy gathering, but because they believed “that according to Buddhism, unless your body is complete, you cannot go wherever it is that the Buddhists go to after they die.”[x]  The soldiers witnessing the grotesque task thought that it was humorous and manly to take part is the desecration of the enemy fallen.

The source of this anecdote raises serious concerns about the reliability and availability of information about the motives, especially religious motives, of the perpetrators of war crimes.  The controversy surrounding the Winter Soldier Investigation continues, as political opponents regularly argue that military authorities were unable to verify that the atrocities reported occurred, and that at least one organizer did not actually serve in Vietnam.  Winter Soldier detractors also argue that Senator John Kerry and other participants did not provide documentation of the crimes they witnessed or performed.[xi]

Sources for this research present other challenges.  Foremost among these is that information about participation and motivation for participation or reporting war crimes is usually self-reported.  This means relying on testimony potentially tainted by political motivations, such as that in the Winter Soldier Investigations, testimony before courts-martial or Congressional committee used to deflect or cast blame on others, or unwillingness to candidly discuss events for personal and professional reasons.  It is also possible that sources do not fully understand or remember their motivations in the heat of the moment.  Collections of letters from soldiers and Marines serving in Vietnam come under editorial pressure to present the conflict in a way that will not risk the displeasure of the primary market for such literature – veterans and their families.

Religious language does appear in these sources, however, providing a tantalizing glimpse of both religious identity and belief played a significant role for those serving in Vietnam.  Chief Warrant Officer Anthony De Angelis wrote to his wife that, “I’m sorry but I don’t know how it happened, but I lost the Saint Christopher medal you gave me; it must have come loose from the chain.  I feel real bad about it….”[xii] Similarly, Sergeant Charlie B. Dickey wrote to his wife in 1969 saying, “If the Lord decides He wants me with Him, I want you to know that I go into battle with a clear conscience and a very satisfied mind.”[xiii]  CS1 James C. Kline, a U.S. Navy Petty Officer, wrote to his seven year-old son to explain why he is fighting halfway around the world in specifically religious terms.  After asking him to faithfully keep the Ten Commandments, Kline writes,

“Jesus had a cross to bear and all of us over here have our cross to bear.  We may falter but must carry the load ourselves as Jesus did, but we can all on him anytime the load gets too heavy or we need help.  There are a lot of fathers here that are making their sacrifice so that their sons and you may have a free country to grow up in – to have the right to worship as you choose and to make yourself as you see fit.”[xiv]

Kline’s missive defines the war as both religious and ideological in nature, illustrating the role of religious belief in the motivations of some of the men serving in the conflict.  However, it does not provide insight into his behavior, or that of others, on the battlefield.

Enlisting in 1966, Barry Romo believed he was fighting to save Vietnamese Catholics from Communists, who he believed were the “new Nazis in the world.”[xv]  Joining the Marines allowed him to demonstrate his manhood, earn money for college, and fulfill his religious duty.  Marine Corps Sergeant Greg Moody similarly felt religious conviction in his experience of the war.  Writing back to his pastor, Dr. James L. Pleitz, Moody wrote:

“The Americans have taken for granted their wonderful freedom, which is a dream to the Vietnamese people here.  With God’s willingness and his protection, when I return home I will treasure my freedom I have been blessed with along with the Lord’s mercy and kindness he has bestowed upon our nation.”[xvi]

Moody also asked his pastor for assistance in understanding the Buddhist majority of Vietnam, referring to Jeremiah 20:2, discussing the ways of the heathen.  Moody’s belief is such that he not only turns to religion for solace, but also to explain the world.  Sergeant David L. Glading echoed Moody’s need for answers about Vietnam when he wrote to his girlfriend in 1969 wondering what the point of the war was, saying that he wonders “what God thinks about the whole situation.”  He is careful to state that he is not antiwar or a “longhair”, that he loves God and Country, but that it would be simpler, easier to have fought a world war to defend America.[xvii]
           
Soldiers involved in atrocities sometimes viewed the aftermath in explicitly religious terms.  When Paul Meadlo, a veteran of the My Lai Massacre, stepped on a landmine the following day, losing a foot, he believed that God was punishing him for My Lai.  After the incident, other soldiers heard Meadlo tell platoon leader Lieutenant William Calley that “God will punish you for what you made me do.”[xviii]  Long after the war veterans that participated in war crimes, as did W.D. Ehrhart, who killed an unarmed elderly woman fleeing from American soldiers and participated in a gang rape, wondered if his post-war tendency toward violence in personal relationships was a form of punishment, telling a friend:

“I think the stuff I did in Vietnam has left me-well, like something inside of me got broken and isn’t ever going to get better….If I believed in God, I’d think it was some kind of divine retribution for all the murder and mayhem.”[xix]

Other soldiers found that their experience in Vietnam drove them away from their faith.  When Joe Urgo returned from Vietnam on Christmas Eve in 1968, he immediately attended midnight mass with his family.  When the priest spoke only of divine grace, Urgo became angry that the suffering he ignored the real suffering in the world, and left the Church entirely.[xx]

Tying the historical concept of chivalry, and hence the fateful combination of honor, masculinity, and religion into the question of war crimes in Vietnam is challenging, but perhaps also the key to creating and understanding of any potential relationship between religion and war crimes in the conflict.  After the Gulf of Tonkin incident in August 1964, Georgia Senator Richard Russell contended, “Our national honor is at stake.  We cannot and will not shrink from defending it.”[xxi]  The problem with Vietnam and other conflicts with a large component of irregular warfare is that it cannot fulfill traditional Western understandings of honorable combat in which two equal forces face each other in decisive battle. 

Marine Corps General Robert E. Cushman, commander of I Corps in Vietnam complained that defensive fighting was not in the Marines’ makeup, arguing that  Marines digging in to defend were “like antichrists at Vespers”.  He contended that in the field where Army units would dig in, Marine units should not because training did not focus on constructing field works.  Instead, he believed Marines should focus more on the “fatal gesture” than mere survival.[xxii]  Marine leaders like Cushman fantasized about the glory of the frontal assault and the romance of “a line of determined men firing short bursts from the hip as they advanced on the enemy at a stately walk.”[xxiii]

The frustration being unable to come to grips with the enemy is the most frequent reason American soldiers gave for committing atrocities – the enemy did not play fair.  While the regular soldiers of the North Vietnamese Army fought in formation and with discipline, the more common opponent for American soldiers were the Viet Cong guerillas that used stealth, sniping, and booby traps.[xxiv]  The feeling that the main enemy was unknowable comes clearly from W.D. Ehrhart, whose poetry acts as a kind of catharsis.

It’s practically impossible
To tell civilians
From the Vietcong.

Nobody wears uniforms.
They all talk
The same language,
(and you couldn’t understand them
even if they didn’t.

They tape grenades
Inside their clothes,
And carry satchel charges
In their market baskets

Even their women fight;
And young boys,
And girls.

It’s practically impossible
To tell civilians
From the Vietcong;

After awhile.
You quit trying.[xxv]

Michael Barnhardt, who was a member of the infantry company responsible for the My Lai massacre, agreed with Ehrhart’s sentiment when he testified “There is a lot of frustration that is among the men over there, and these frustrations cannot be directed at those responsible for them, and so, they’re directed at what they can be directed at.  In other words, sort of making a whipping boy out of the South Vietnamese population.”[xxvi]   Some soldiers were also bewildered by the hatred and fear they saw in the eyes of the people they were there to protect.  When Bobby Muller arrived in South Vietnam, he thought of himself as “a hero and a liberator.”  He surprised by the civilian reaction to American soldiers, that his units was harassed everywhere it went, and by the lack of fighting spirit in the Army of the Republic of Vietnam, where the enemy was implacable.[xxvii]  With these issues in mind, Western concepts of Chivalry may be exactly the analytical tool required to assess any potential correlation between religion and war crimes in Vietnam.

An apparent connection between Late Medieval chivalric notions of service in war and combat emerges in how World War II veterans, who fought a great Crusade against dictators and tyrants, portrayed war to their children.  Many taught sons that going to fight in Vietnam was their opportunity to become a man, to participate in an epic battle against evil.  Rather than merely an individual issue, these men turned participating in Vietnam a matter of “duty, obligation, and honor” that made going to war “a matter of moral debt.”[xxviii]  Even in individuals not professing strong religious beliefs, these ideals bear a religious overtone that mirrors that of an earlier age.

Not only were chivalric knights required to fight in the proper, honorable manner, against opponents of equal social rank and skill, but also they included a specifically religious code of conduct in their belief system.  The brotherly equality of equals was as embedded in the chivalric code, as it is in American culture, which soldiers in Vietnam would carry with them.[xxix]  The rite of passage and award of arms associated with Medieval knighthood may find its modern equivalent in graduation from Basic Military Training or other, more advanced schools of arms in the United States military.  This may be particularly true of the Marine Corps, which deliberately pursues an image of valor and honor in public media, and adopted the motto “Semper Fidelis” – Always Faithful to enshrine its ideals of service.

General Cushman’s comments on the Marine Corps’ ethos of combat particularly evoke the chivalric ideal of heavy, close, aggressive combat between equals.  His description of the stately walk of disciplined ranks advancing into the onslaught of enemy fire with grim determination calls to mind the charge of the heavy armored French knight.  Cushman’s rejection of defensive fighting and fortifications echoes the charge of French knights against the dismounted English at Poitiers.  Like the French, Cushman wanted his Marines to strike the lethal blow – safer tactics were left to lesser beings.

In this conception of honor and chivalry lays a potential danger for American troops.  By only acknowledging enemies that fight according to their rules, those that favor them, as equals deserving respect, soldiers and Marines cast all of those defined as other into a category, which deserved no respect or quarter.  W.D. Erhhart and Michael Barnhardt described the mechanism that created this scenario – all Vietnamese became the enemy, and those who did not wear uniforms or fight “fairly” lost the protections of the laws of war.

One significant challenge to the comparison of American troops’ behavior in Vietnam and that of Medieval knights is that of forms of etiquette toward each other and toward women.  Incidents of “fragging”, in which enlisted men attacked officers and NCOs fall outside the apparent code of honor implied by the use of chivalry as an analytical tool.  Reports of rape and treatment of prostitutes also seem to fail outside the chivalric ideal.  How then to reconcile this gap in behavior and code of honor?

A solution is to argue that the modern incarnation of the chivalric ideal in the American context extends only to the proper forms of combat as force on force without deception.  However, this understanding ignores the class content of Medieval chivalry.  Its dictates only applied to members of equivalent social class – the nobility.  When soldiers defined the vast majority of the Vietnamese populace as sub-human, they lost the protections a code of chivalry such as that of the Medieval knighthood afforded.  That meant that the women and girls raped at My Lai by members of the Americal Division fell outside the protections of normal soldierly codes of conduct toward civilians – they were not only associated with the enemy Other, but with an enemy that did not follow the accepted rules of honorable combat, and one defined as sub-human.  In this way, behavior that many observers believed fell outside the context of the laws of war and soldierly honor falls within the realm of earlier understandings of proper warfare.

The connection between these two analytical concepts: religion and chivalry become clear by comparing Geoffroi de Charny and Charles B. Dickey.  Charny, writing in the fourteenth century argued that knighthood was akin to a religious vocation, in which the knight undertook Holy Orders in service to God, and should go into battle with a clear conscience in order to be prepared to meet his maker.[xxx]  Writing from Vietnam, Dickey avers to go into battle ready to meet his fate if God so chooses, confident that he is following the correct course.

Despite the difficulties in coming to grips with the effects, if religious identity and belief on the actions of individual soldiers and Marines, it is clear that a relationship exists.  Due to the vagaries of individual human nature, however, how religious belief and identity manifest in battlefield behavior remains hard to ascertain.  More sources of information and more precise analytical tools focused on determining religiosity are needed in order to find patterns of behavior that may be generalizable across populations.






[i] William C. Cockerham and Lawrence E. Cohen. “Obedience to Orders: Issues of Morality and Legality in Combat among U.S. Paratroops,” Social Forces 58, No. 4 (1980), 1272.
[ii] James S. Olson and Randy Roberts. My Lai: A Brief History with Documents (Boston, Bedford St. Martins, 1998), 50.
[iii] Lloyd Lewis. The Tainted War: Culture and Identity in Vietnam War Narratives (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1985), 57.
[iv] Bing West. The Village: Fifteen Walked In.  Eight Walked Out. (New York: Pocket Books, 2003), 13.
[v] Patricia, R. Hill. “Commentary: Religion as a Category of Diplomatic Analysis,” Diplomatic History 24, no. 4 (2000), 634.
[vi] James D. Davidson. “Religious Belief as an Independent Variable,” Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 11, no. 11 (1972), 73.
[vii] Thomas E. Cygnar, Donald L. Noel, and Cardell K. Jacobson. “Religiosity and Prejudice: An Interdimensional Analysis,” Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 16, no. 2 (1977), 183.
[viii] Cygnar, Noel, and Jacobson, “Religiosity and Prejudice,” 186.
[ix] Cygnar, Noel, and Jacobson, “Religiosity and Prejudice,” 188.
[x] Winter Soldier Investigation, “Americal, Part 1.” 28 January 1999, 13 April 2009 < http://www2.iath.virginia.edu/sixties/HTML_docs/Resources/Primary/Winter_Soldier/WS_49_Americal.html>.
[xi] Edward Epstein, “ 'Winter Soldier' testimony still fuels discontent
Bitterness lingers over young Kerry's Senate appearance,” San Francisco Chronicle 17 October 2004, 13 April 2009 < http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/chronicle/archive/2004/10/17/ING3Q98R2J1.DTL>.

[xii] Bill Adler. Letters from Vietnam (New York, Random House Publishing, 2003), 16.
[xiii] Adler, Letters from Vietnam, 84.
[xiv] Adler, Letters from Vietnam, 150.
[xv] Richard Stacewicz, ed. Winter Soldiers: An Oral History of the Vietnam Veterans Against the War (New York: Twayne Publishers, 1997), 34.
[xvi] Adler, Letters from Vietnam, 204.
[xvii] Adler, Letters from Vietnam, 226.
[xviii] Robert Jay Lifton. Home From the War: Vietnam Veterans: Neither Victims nor Executioners (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1973), 57.
[xix] William H. Becker. “Spiritual Struggle and Resistance to It: The Case of Vietnam Veterans,” Journal of Law and Religion 13, no. 1 (1999), 95.
[xx] Stacewicz, 127.
[xxi] Leo Braudy. From Chivalry to Terrorism (New York, Alfred A Knopf, 2003), 528.
[xxii] Lloyd B. Lewis. The Tainted War: Culture and Identity in Vietnam War Narratives (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1985), 29.
[xxiii] Lewis, The Tainted War, 29.
[xxiv] Richard Burks Verrone and Laura M. Calkins. Voices from Vietnam (Devon, UK: David & Charles, 2005), 96.
[xxv] W.D. Ehrhart. Unaccustomed Mercy: Soldier-Poets of the Vietnam War (Lubbock: Texas Tech University Press, 1989), 57.
[xxvi] Olson and Roberts, My Lai, 50.
[xxvii] Kim Willenson. The Bad War: An Oral History of the Vietnam War (New York: New American Library, 1987), 113.
[xxviii] Lewis, 45.
[xxix] Jeremy duQuesnay Adams. “Modern Views of Chivalry, 1884-1984,” The Study of Chivalry: Resources and Practices, eds. Howell Chickering and Thomas Seiler (New York: Simon and Schuster 1988), 41-89.
[xxx] Keen, Maurice. Chivalry (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1984), 6-12.

Friday, January 20, 2017

War and Popular Culture: Resistance in Modern China, 1937-1945

Hung, Chang-tai, War and Popular Culture: Resistance in Modern China, 1937-1945. University of California Press, 1994.

While the Chinese struggle against Japan during World War II and the subsequent victory of the Communists over Jiang Jieshi’s Nationalists receives large amounts of scholarly attention, little attention is paid to propaganda and changes in popular culture during this period.  Many studies assert that Communist forces successfully portrayed themselves as the primary forces opposing Japan, but few discuss how these claims disseminated through China’s large and dispersed population.  Chang-tai Hung argues that both Nationalists and Communists relied on urban popular culture, which spread into rural areas to promote resistance to the invading Japanese, but that Communist propagandists were more adept at using popular media to promote their own agenda.

The new importance of popular culture is as important a change as the use made of it.  Chinese elites looked down on popular culture as unsophisticated, and in their urban form as crass commercialism.  However, popular culture became an important tool for spreading political messages simply because it was popular and entertaining.  The urban popular culture that spread into rural areas after Japan’s invasion was less commercial, focusing on patriotic and reform messages.  Although propagandists relied on media formats including song, cartoons, newspapers, and poetry, the first important export to the countryside was spoken drama, delivered by acting troupes that communicated rather than fought.  The core of Hung’s argument is that the war with Japan was more than a military crisis – it created an environment when traditional values were questions, roles of intellectuals changed, and social order altered.  These combined with the expansion of popular culture into rural areas to work to the Communists’ advantage in winning the battle for the hearts and minds of the people.

The result of these epochal changes was the development of a new political culture in China focused on rural areas rather than cities, providing Communists with an advantage in the Civil War against the Guomingdang.  The war created a crisis for intellectuals, many of whom believed China at a dead end, and that the GMD’s leadership corrupt and ineffective.  The result was a belief that a new era was dawning for China.  The Communists successfully adapted these feelings to create a new “people’s culture” that minimized the rich and powerful and served their own ends.

Thursday, January 19, 2017

Death by a Thousand Cuts

Brook, Timothy, Bourgon, Jerome, and Blue, Gregory. Death by a Thousand Cuts. Harvard University Press, 2008.

The authors use the last Qing-era execution of Wang Weiqin using the ancient sentence of lingchi in 1905, known to Europeans as the “Death by a Thousand Cuts”, to examine the historical development, cultural meaning, and judicial basis of the most extreme legal form of execution available in China.  French soldiers documented Wang Weiqin’s fate using a newly popular portable camera, providing a lasting image of how lingchi worked, but also altering the study of this type of execution.  This also allows Brook, Bourgon, and Blue to examine European attitudes toward torture, imprisonment, and execution and their relationship with imperial China during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.

The first step in analyzing lingchi as punishment requires researchers to understand it as merely another form of execution, but also to understand the goals of punishment in imperial China. In contrast with nineteenth and twentieth century European efforts to use punishment as a means of reforming criminals, Qing and earlier Chinese imperial punishment regimes focused on physical and spiritual punishment of the criminal.  In this, Chinese practice was similar to that of all other governments through the eighteenth century.  Perpetrators of the most horrible crimes received horrible punishments, including what the authors term execution by torment.  This type of execution differs from both torture used to extract information and modern executions in which pain is minimized in its goals and symbolism.  The torment used in lingchi and other “brutal” executions was part deterrent and part punishment itself.  No information was sought, and easing the condemned’s death not a primary consideration.

Interestingly, Brook, Bourgon, and Blue indicate that lingchi executions could be less painful than a lesser sentence of strangulation.  During lingchi, the executioner dispatched the condemned early in the process, before inflicting extreme pain, while strangulation produced great pain for its victims.  Lingchi was more severe because it broke the body down, reducing its cohesion and extending the punishment into the afterlife.  For this reason, imperial policies restricted the use of lingchi to the most excessive crimes, and required a bureaucratic process before executions occurred.  Theological differences between Europe and China play a key role in the different reactions to lingchi between Europeans and Chinese.  Where European executions focused on the condemned’s chance to seek redemption to gain access to Heaven, Chinese executions offered no such role, focusing on the power of the state.  This difference altered the setting and actions of participants and witnesses to such extent that Europeans viewed Chinese executions as barbaric, and used them to further justify interventions in China during the two Opium Wars of the mid-nineteenth century.

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Vietnamese Anticolonialism, 1885-1925

Marr, David G. Vietnamese Anticolonialism, 1885-1925. University of California Press, 1971.

Writing near the end of the United States’ involvement in Vietnam, David Marr traces the development of anticolonial sentiment and activities in Vietnam through 1925.  Primarily a work of political history, Marr also addresses intellectual history, tracing the use of quoc-ngu for scholarly and political tracts, the cultural foundation of ideological attacks against mandarins collaborating with French occupation, the deployment of popular literature to mobilize public opinion, and a move away from strictly Confucian guidelines for social norms.  These changes set the stage for the reformers and revolutionaries who successfully gained national independence.

Marr’s central assumption is that anticolonialism in Vietnam was based first on a group of foundational myths about Vietnam self-consciously created by activists such as Phan Boi Chau and Phan Chu Trinh during the first decade of the twentieth century.  These two men were the intellectual leaders of the generation that laid the groundwork for later successful revolutionary movements.  Phan Boi Chau particularly attacked parts of the traditional Confucian base of Vietnamese culture, particularly the exam and degree system, which he felt was useless in training leaders in the modern world.  Attacks on the degree system led to a newer form of education focusing not on Confucian classics, but on quoc-ngu, French, Chinese, and other modernist subjects.

The traditional and new schools competed with each other for students, prestige, and funds. Traditional schools continued to have prestige as the key to financial success and advancement, leading even peasant families to sacrifice in order for a son to spend the long years of study necessary to pass the tests.  Traditional education also benefited from the examples of the scholar-gentry participating in the Can Vuong Movement at the end of the nineteenth century.  These Vietnamese patriots used traditional Confucian arguments to attack mandarins who collaborated with the French administration to line their own pockets.  While the collaborators might argue that they were merely accepting the inevitable, the patriots argued that their loyalty to the King required resistance, and that without it, the French would erase Vietnamese culture, not just their nation.



Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Call for Applications: Paris Institute for Advanced Study

Paris Institute for Advanced Study, Paris, 01.09.2018-30.06.2019
Bewerbungsschluss: 01.03.2017

The Paris Institute for Advanced Study welcomes applications from high
level international scholars and scientists in the fields of the
humanities, the social sciences and related fields for periods of five
or nine months, during the academic year 2018-2019.

The Paris IAS will host around twenty guest researchers, allowing them
to work freely on the project of their choice. The researchers will
benefit from the scientific environment of the Institute and have the
opportunity to create contacts with researchers in the academic
institutions of Greater Paris.

The non-thematic bottom-up program is entirely based on free individual
initiatives.

At least 3/4 of the IAS fellows (15 to 20) will be selected in the
framework of this blue-sky program, for which the excellence of the
researcher and his/her project is the essential criterion.

The Paris IAS provides its fellows with housing and a monthly
remuneration (or complement of remuneration). It also pays for their
round-trip ticket to Paris.

CONDITIONS OF ELIGIBILITY

Researchers from all countries are eligible. Applicants who have spent
more than a total of 12 months in France during the 3 years prior to the
application are not eligible.

This call for applications is open to:

1) Senior university professors or researchers holding a position in a
university or research institution and having a minimum of 10 years of
full time research experience after their PhD (at the time of the
application).

2) Junior scholars having the status of postdoctoral researcher or
holding a position in a university or research institution, and having a
minimum of 2 and maximum of 9 years of research experience after the PhD
(at the time of the application).

The institute is bilingual. Knowledge of English is required. The
applicants are also expected to understand French, as scientific and
social activities are held in French and English.

Applicants may request residencies for one of the following periods:
1) September 1st, 2018 to January 31st, 2019 (5 months)
2) October 1st, 2018 to June 30th, 2019 (9 months)
3) February 1st to June 30th, 2019 (5 months)



------------------------------------------------------------------------
Caroline zum Kolk

IEA Paris, 17 quai d'Anjou, 75004 Paris, Frankreich

caroline.zumkolk@paris-iea.fr

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