My Brother's Keeper

The Fort Hood shootings have raised questions again about how the military should handle the personal religious beliefs of its solders, whether they are evangelical Christians, Muslims, Wiccans, and so on. What is the proper role of religion—and personal religious belief—in the U.S. Armed Forces? Should a particular religious affiliation disqualify someone from active military service? How far should the military go to accommodate personal religious beliefs and practices?

“Am I my brother’s keeper?” In the story of Cain and Abel that appears in the sacred scriptures of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, Cain responds to God with these words when asked about the brother he’s just killed. When he murders Abel, Cain justifies his actions by severing the relationship with his brother—saying, in effect, “Who is he to me?”

Last week’s shooting at Fort Hood is a reflection of the Cain/Abel story. Brothers and sisters, linked together through common values and purpose, are supposed to protect one another. Military training, in fact, seeks to create a unified whole, so individual soldiers become part of a cohesive unit. We don’t know yet what motivated the killings, but Major Hasan, like Cain, severed the brotherly bond with his fellow soldiers through violence and bloodshed.

The Cain/Abel story and the shooting at Fort Hood remind us that in setting ourselves apart from our fellow humans—when we separate “us” from “them”—great evil is possible. Almost all human interaction bears traces of this. Everywhere we look, we see acts of exclusion, fear of difference, “othering”—starting with bias and prejudice and, in the most extreme cases, escalating to persecution and racism, exile and expulsion, murder and genocide.

The public response to the shooting also reveals this human tendency to separate “us” from “them.” Major Hasan’s faith clearly marks him as “other” for many Americans and maybe for some of the soldiers who witnessed or were involved in the tragedy. Ironically, war itself has been motivated by this same dynamic throughout history. The enemy is always other. But as the U.S. becomes more diverse, the lines between “us” and “them” become increasingly difficult to distinguish. Major Hasan is one of “us,” but he also is one of “them.”

Jews, Christians, and Muslims all worship the same God; we are brothers and sisters in faiths originating from the same source. Believers in these three faiths hold that all are created in the image of God, all belong to the web of creation, and all are heirs to God’s love and promise. And yet, in our daily lives—and especially in conflicts between nations—we forget our common humanity.

If we ask whether Muslims should serve in the U.S. military, we also should ask whether Jews and Christians should. It is not religious affiliation that makes an individual fit or unfit to serve in the military—just as it isn’t race, class, gender, or sexual orientation. It’s the willingness to join with fellow soldiers in a common purpose, the capacity to put aside personal prejudice and fear of difference, and the ability to see both the necessity and the insanity of war, in all its complexity.

Religious affiliation should not disqualify someone from active military service. If the U.S. discriminates against those who wish to serve on the basis of faith, it would reinforce an attitude toward difference that inevitably leads to violence and bloodshed. Cain killing Abel, brother killing brother—on any scale—this is a distortion of God’s hope for humankind.