Making the Case for the Military

I don’t pretend to be an expert on this issue of ROTC at Columbia University. Admittedly, I have been pretty out of the loop as of late. For the past four months, instead of slipping into sandals and grabbing my morning usual at HamDel, I have started every day by lacing up my desert boots and donning 30 pounds of ceramic body armor.

This new routine is not terribly different from the one I enjoyed prior to entering Columbia. I transferred here from the United States Military Academy at West Point, where each new day found me throwing on my as-for-class uniform and grabbing a black backpack full of books on Army history, battlefield strategy, and anything else within the periphery of our military’s contemporary operating environment.

In my transition from West Point to Morningside Heights, I picked up a wealth of real knowledge on such imperative subjects as beer pong and the realities of being sexiled. But possibly the most valuable lesson I took away from the experience was an appreciation for the relationship between mainstream society and the men and women who are sworn to protect it. At West Point I found a cadet population that was removed from a lot of the major issues of the day and focused almost wholly on the wars in the Middle East and Central Asia. Similarly, at Columbia, I found a student population that was well-versed in many disciplines, but largely ignorant of the military.

Between any two cultures, ignorance invariably breeds fear and contempt. Columbia and the military are no different. When I decided to reenlist, more than a handful of my friends criticized my decision and called the military the last resort of the lower class, a place where the poor go to get off the street and into the line of fire. Ultimately, I failed to convince many of them that the Army provides the invaluable leadership experience and opportunity to effect concrete change that I have found it to be.

But what struck me most about their comments was the complete lack of understanding of the main interrogatives of the service, the sort of knowledge that can only be gained by either close contact or direct participation. The scores of former soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines in the School of General Studies are a great asset to our university. They have helped educate hundreds of Columbians on the realities of the military, but the insight to be gained by a military presence on campus is second to none.

By continuing the ban on ROTC, the administration is doing a great disservice both to its students and the nation. “Don’t ask, don’t tell” is an atrocious policy, but it is largely a product of the very disconnect between the armed forces and general society that the administration’s ROTC ban fosters. If Columbia is truly concerned with being a force for change, then engagement, not isolation, is the solution. Columbia and the military have a lot to offer each other, and only positive effects in the form of increased understanding and a more intelligent and worldly body of military leaders can result from a closer relationship.

Supporting ROTC is not a vote for the military and its policies. It is a vote to bring knowledge of our fighting forces to campus, for the benefit of both the university and the armed forces. Columbia ROTC promises to give an education to both the student and the service: the former receives a greater understanding of the military, beyond it being a history and foreign policy staple, while the latter gets an injection of fresh thought and intelligence designed to bring the armed forces back in line with our society as a whole. When we enrich our academic debate with a dose of critical relevancy and our military with brilliant minds, ignorance is the only loser.

The author is a Columbia College junior majoring in political science.