We expect too much from our heroes

By: Haider Ali Ullah Khan

The year is 1965, and we are in the small livestock town Burki, near Lahore. War plagues the lands to the
East and before long, Burki is to fall ill to the disease. It had not been easy on the town. Pakistani troops
were shut tight in their trenches, dug-outs, and holes of dirt, awaiting the fastpaced Indian assault with its
sights on Lahore. The fearful citizens hid in their homes—scared—or fled to territory left untouched.
Before long, tanks started rolling in, and jets could be heard soaring above in the skies. Fighting had
begun; and in the mess, one man, Aziz Bhatti, knew that he had more to lose than anyone. His family
lived in Lahore, and to protect them, he would hold his position to his last breath. And he did. The battle
was lost for the Pakistanis, but Aziz had saved Lahore, and to honor his sacrifice, we celebrate Defense
Day annually in Pakistan. Beautiful story, isn’t it? The tale of a war hero who fought to protect his home,
his creed, and his honor. A heroic figure we should look up to; venerate even. But should we?
Simplifying war, its brutality, its characters and its importance into what are modern day myths, does no
good for society. Instead, it creates a youth raised to infantilize, and glorify these troubling norms. In
Pakistan for instance, there is a universal admiration for the army as a result of this manufactured
propaganda that uses these war heroes to sell a dangerous lie: that of the unyielding superiority of
Pakistan and its armed forces. On its own, love for war cannot be sold, but by telling stories of deified
martyrs, the people can be manipulated into a deep passion for it. In the youth, this evolves into the desire
to become a soldier, and to imitate the achievements of these martyrs. Anything less is not enough; you
are expected—by both society, and yourself—to fight for the glory of the nation and against its enemies.
Many of these soldier men realize soon after enlisting, though, that they have been sold a lie. And as such,
they are presented with an impossible dilemma. Either they desert, a criminal offense in all armies;
request to be discharged, bringing shame on themselves due to supposed ‘cowardice’; or continue fighting
for a cause they do not only believe in, but know is wrong. In 2004, Jeremy Hinzman faced this very
dilemma. He enlisted in the U.S Army as a paratrooper, hoping to help people of his own, and other
countries. Any positive outlook on his service turned sour, however, with the declaration of the war on
Iraq. He saw the war for what it really was: an unjust invasion for oil; a violation of Iraq’s sovereignty, all
based on the lie the country had Weapons of Mass Destruction. And so, he deserted, and the U.S didn’t
take to kindly to it. In fact, had he not escaped to Canada, he would have been court martialled and
imprisoned. Yet Jeremy’s example is one of a minority. We do not hear often of soldiers deserting,
abandoning their nation for a higher cause. Instead, when we turn on the news, we are presented with
images and descriptions of heinous brutalities from any of the 55 current global conflicts. One day, we’ll
hear about the deaths of Syrian infantry defending a town near Aleppo. The next day, we might learn
about the bombing of an army base near Kabul. As citizens, we must realize our guilt in this. Our part in
perpetuating mythological expectations for soldiers, for supporting our militaries in their immoral
expeditions, and for being complacent in supporting a complex that gets our heroes killed. We all just
need to pause, and ask ourselves if this is all, ‘worth it’.