“Prior Justification”: Neo-World War II Films as Rhetorical Appeals for “Just War” in the New Millennium

Click to increase image sizeClick to decrease image size Disclosure StatementNo potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).Notes1. As quoted in Jo Davidsmeyer, Combat!: A Viewer’s Companion to the WW II Series 173.2. It is difficult to know what we should now call the military actions earlier referred to as “The War on Terror.” At present, it seems that most media outlets speak of the “Wars in Iraq and Afghanistan” and the “War against ISIS.”3. For a thorough discussion of this quartet of films, see Vincent Casaregola, Theaters of War: America’s Perceptions of World War II), 110–136 and 247-248n. Also see Jeanine Basinger, The World War II Combat Film: Anatomy of a Genre; Joe Hyams, War Movies; Mike Mayo, Video Hound’s War Movies; and Lawrence Suid, Guts and Glory, Second Edition. Suid, in particular, articulates the importance of these four films mentioned.4. By volunteering to join a service, and thereby accepting a three-year term of enlistment, a recruit could have much more choice in how and where they might serve, assuring that they would not be in the jungles of Vietnam. They would still have to serve, and they might face danger of some kind, but they were not plodding through the rice paddies and jungles.5. Tom Englehardt’s 1995 book, The End of Victory Culture, provides a useful analysis of the interaction between the traditional and evolving World War II narratives in film and popular culture in relation to the emergent disillusionment of Americans in the Cold War and Vietnam era, as well as the Reagan-era and Gulf War revival of a new kind of militarism. This is a useful but flawed study. One cannot fault Englehardt for not being able to predict the neo-World War II film, much less the influence of the 9/11 attacks. On the other hand, Englehardt seems oblivious to the new kinds of World War II trauma narratives emergent from 1979 onward (and, to some extent, an outgrowth of similar narratives from the Vietnam generation). Like many critics of film, television, and popular culture, he seems, at best, unfamiliar with literary and memoir representations that are of such great value in re-assessing Americans’ perspectives on World War II and war in general. As a result, as interesting as his study can be, it is also strikingly limited in its perspective. It has a story to tell, and it is sticking to that story.6. It should be noted that World War II had been seen, and continues to be seen, as a”just war,” whereas Vietnam is still a contested historical narrative, with some historians still claiming it as a just war undermined by incompetent politicians and others arguing that it was unjust and a mistake from the get-go. The real issue, though, has to be beyond narrative justification, which is a rhetorical exercise frequently used to argue that an action is just regardless of the full range of facts. In many ways, no war can ever be described as completely just, and modern wars, by their very nature, will bring about unjust actions. Additionally, given the complexity of motivations of governments and individuals, it may be impossible ever to achieve complete jus ad bellum. As Ken Burns noted in his documentary The War, the best one might argue for is “a necessary war.” This is a war that can be understood as having some clear justifications based on the overall right intentions of the belligerents claiming to work for some kind of justice. Even in such wars, unjust actions will occur, sometimes quite dramatically. For example, after the Battle of the Bismarck Sea in March of 1943, Allied airmen were ordered to strafe and kill surviving Japanese troops (from sunken transports) as they floated in their life boats and life rafts. Clearly this is a war crime committed by the Allies. Was it worse than so many such crimes committed by the Axis powers, including the Japanese themselves? The answer is a matter of perspective, but the question may be irrelevant—it was criminally unjust. Getting back to the central issue, the tendency to use representations of one generally “justifable” war to justify another is not an application of just war theory; rather, it is a rhetorical exercise in using narrative examples as evidence to support an argument for war. It is an ethically flawed strategy, and it needs to be scrutinized and critiqued.7. A Ranger company totaled about 70 men, and so given the small group of survivors remaining, Miller’s company had taken almost 90% casualties in the D-Day assault. See Robert W. Black, Rangers in World War II), 18–19. Note that Miller’s unit was part of a separate set of Ranger companies from those who famously landed at Point du Hoc to attack the German gun positions there (which proved to have been abandoned as the guns had been removed further inland). Some who have criticized this representation of the Rangers have not examined the D-Day experience in detail. Additional Ranger units (like the fictional one led by Miller) landed at the western end of Omaha Beach in order to move inland and attack the German guns from another direction, either to assist those Rangers landing at Point du Hoc or to replace them if that tricky assault had failed completely. Thus, companies such as Miller’s did indeed land on part of Omaha Beach, even if the subsequent patrol section of the film, to find Private Ryan, was fictional.8. Given the circumstances and geography, if a unit had been sent out to find a member of the 101st Airborne Division, it would have been from one of the divisions that had landed on Utah Beach, not on Omaha, because the Airborne units had landed behind Utah on the Cotentin Peninsula. Omaha was too far away. This is a bit of Hollywood cinematic license taken by the filmmakers. It may be that Spielberg wanted to feature a Ranger unit, and on D-Day, those units landed only on the western end of Omaha Beach and at Pointe du Hoc between Utah and Omaha. In the film, as noted above, Miller’s Company is landing on Omaha, not at Pointe du Hoc.9. See Tacitus, Agricola, 79–81. Tacitus creates a speech for the British chieftain Calgacus, putting these harsh words about the Romans in his mouth.10. In a 1945 article, critic James Agee compliments the intensity of combat newsreels of the Pacific war, but he questions the morality of viewing deadly violence, seeing it almost as pornographic. He believes that there is something perverse about the receiving visual and aesthetic satisfaction from the deadly violence experienced by others far away. His comments are insightful and must give pause to all who make, view, and/or study war films. See James Agee, “These Terrible Records of War” (1945) 606–607.11. One recent example of the outpouring of support is an anthology of work issued by the British publisher Black Spring Press, Before the Cameras Leave Ukraine: An Anthology Raising Funds for Ukrainian Refugees. While only a single example, it echoes the kind of sentiment found in many expressions of support for beleaguered nations in the run-up to World War II (e.g, Ethiopia, Spain, and China).