Ever since 1932, the US Military has awarded the Purple Heart to those wounded or killed whilst serving in battle by enemy action (Wikipedia, 6). Along with the honor and prestige attributed to this award, it also entitles its recipients to numerous healthcare and treatment benefits, consisting of elements that are often crucial for the wellbeing of veterans. Indeed, the Purple Heart is a truly worthy badge of honor having been distributed to over a million individuals – however, it is an award whose nomination criteria has generated substantial controversy.
The fundamental concern regarding the requirements governing the eligibility of the Purple Heart stems from a lack of clarity in regards to the role of the body in war, and to what extent this ‘role’ may be evaluated or gauged. More specifically, the effect of psychological wounds of war, in particular Post-Traumatic Disorder (PTSD), is an extremely blurry issue that currently does not qualify under the requirements necessary to obtain the award (Bica, 1). This presents multidimensional issues affecting not only just military soldiers, but also medical professionals and the constitution of the US Military itself. For one, it raises concerns questioning what exactly the role of the military is and what its responsibilities are towards its constituents. Similarly, such controversy also elevates moral ambiguity regarding the role of medical practitioners in both assessing and evaluating certain illnesses amongst soldiers.
This article shall aim to explore the almost hierarchical nature that appears to exist between the mind and the body in contemporary America, especially when examined through the lenses of conflict and war. Primarily, the theme of ‘macho-ism’ and the concepts of honor and self-worth in society in relation to the body, elements that implicitly expose this hierarchy, shall be evoked to inspect this significant dichotomy between the physical body and its mental delegation. More specifically, the crucial question of what exactly separates the mind from the body shall be referenced throughout the paper. The implications and consequences of such inquiry extend beyond the military arena; rather, they point and shape the way our society wants to reward its individuals.
Objections towards awarding the Purple Heart for PTSD are quite numerous and vocal; in fact, one army intelligence officer observed that ‘it would be an insult to those who have suffered real injury on the battlefield’ (Junger, 2) whilst another Marine noted that ‘it would lessen the meaning of the award’ (Junger, 2). The fundamental opposition is seemingly rooted with the idea that ‘conditions of the mind are less real than conditions of the body’ (Morris, 3), and as such deserve to be treated in that order. This outlook communicates the magnified view that the physical body broadcasts within society; considering the fact that wounds are visible and that injuries can be unequivocally deciphered, the human body serves as the ultimate conveyor of experience, allowing individuals to access the convoluted, troublesome experience of war and evaluate it effortlessly.
Secondly, the very nature of war itself yields to a ‘vibe’ molded and sculpted through the plethora of war films and action heroes popular in American culture. For our purposes, the term ‘vibe’ shall be taken to be the underlying sub-communications at play between different environments. Generally, the vibe at play is based on this masculinity (referring to qualities traditionally associated with men) and ruggedness epitomized by the quintessential hero, possessing scars and bruises instead of a mental illness.
The army intelligence officer and marine above, however, happen to have had physical involvement within this experience of war itself. Their evaluation, naturally, excludes analogous comparisons to societal standards and this ‘vibe’, because their reference experience serves as their ultimate truth. Additionally, such an issue and its evaluation is in essence representative of their ‘careers’ – such stakes lead to great fervor and emotional investment. The Purple Heart’s criteria, intentionally or unintentionally, reflects both this ‘vibe’ and the communications of individuals with direct reference experience to a great extent, and re-enforces a hierarchical nature between the body and the mind.
Many other individuals much like the army intelligence officer above also claim that awarding the Purple Heart to veterans with mental illnesses would demean the award for others who have supposedly contracted ‘real’ injuries. The peculiar nature of this is that some of these individuals happen to be veterans suffering from mental illnesses themselves; according to the author, many veterans view the term ‘disorder’ in PTSD with shame and often try to hide this information from their families (Miller, 4).
This should not be considered atypical when examining the role that war plays in these individuals’ lives; for many, the war shaped and influenced the majority of their childhood growing up. Physical sacrifice and masculine injuries would almost have been glorified, and to instead have to succumb to a form of mental disorder would be a grossly different reality. The stakes at play in such an environment for veterans with PTSD is in fact an evaluation of their duty, an evaluation of almost how well they performed. And perhaps even more importantly, their audience is those closest to them; their families – those that they do not want to let down. Furthermore, this line of reasoning showcases the extent to which our society values and glorifies the body in two ways.
Firstly, by implying that awarding the Purple Heart to an individual with a non-physical injury would demean others, a hierarchical structure of relative importance is further emphasized. Such a notion attempts to place undue worth on evaluating the dense forest of war versus rewarding its survivors (McSorley, 3). Secondly, it implores a closer examination of the usage of the term ‘disorder’ in PTSD under the circumstances; if there is evidence that clearly shows the devastating effects of such mental illnesses on veterans (Miller, 4), replacing ‘disorder’ with the term ‘injury’ may help in further establishing credibility to the treatment of non-physical illnesses.
This would be principally because the term ‘injury’ requires physical stimuli to be recognized; the physical body is injured only if externally harmed, which is in contrast to the significance of the term disorder that possesses more of an internal root. However, by changing terms, one would be acknowledging the external trauma inflicted upon the veterans, attempting to equalize both the injury and the disorder under the same umbrella, and changing the overall ‘vibe’ of the matter.
It is also imperative to consider the finer details written within the actual body of the Purple Heart requirements, so as to augment clarity in understanding the role of the body within the theme of war. For one, the criteria explicitly states that ‘a wound is defined as an injury to any part of the body from an outside force or agent…the wound for which the award is made must have required treatment by medical personnel’ (Recognize the Sacrifice, 5). As mentioned above, injuries to the body can be identified with relative ease, but the mental forum of illness is one that is much more complex to detect. It is worth also noting the implications such a matter has for medical personnel; firstly, the ethical restrictions and boundaries in between which they must act are immensely critical. Fundamentally, what one practitioner may determine to be a sufficient enough cause of illness may be nullified by another – elements that ultimately affect the lives of these veterans.
Furthermore, the criteria also states that the award is possible for anyone who ‘has been wounded or died from wounds as a result of an act of any such enemy or opposing armed forces’ (Recognize the Sacrifice, 5). However, a recent study suggests that one of the most traumatic and harmful events for soldiers is witnessing harm to other people – even to the enemy (Morris, 3). But due to such a notion’s gross difference to socio-cultural vibes within contemporary society (Rhetoric for Radicals, 7), where the body is seen as the primary bearer of war, it is difficulty to see such an idea surface through.
Finally, much of this analysis allows us to prioritize arguably the most fundamental question that this controversy raises; that of the specific attributes distinguishing the mind from the body. As discussed in this paper, elements of physical portrayal come to play; the body as a medium allows for binary representation versus the mind not allowing such transparency. Alternatively, cultural implications as discussed refer us towards a hierarchical structure that distinguishes the body from the mind by noting the former’s importance in characterizing the traditional portrayal of war in pop-culture America. But fundamentally, all of these arguments make the assumption that the mind is not considered part of the body. For instance, the very act of distinction invokes the hierarchy at play; the very act of using the term disorder instead of injury connotes substantial amounts about how our society perceives this dichotomy.
This separation varies from individual to individual depending upon the specific stakes that are in play (veterans with PTSD in regards to veterans without PTSD in regards to medical personnel), and largely influences how the Purple Heart nomination system functions and has done in the past.
Ultimately, it is the physical body that constitutes an integral role in the nomination of the Purple Heart. It offers an emphatic binary-like portrayal of injury, clearly depicts wounds, and is constantly subject to danger from the enemy. Most critically, though, it overshadows the mental repercussions of war, due to the ‘vibe’ formed through contemporary American society and media, as well as questions of ambiguity and identification. This configuration of the vibe coupled with mass media creates a hierarchy within society of the mind almost being ancillary to the body, specifically when examining themes of conflict and war.
Particularly, this hierarchy comes into focus when awarding the Purple Heart to a wide array of individuals, and perhaps most importantly, also queries how one can evaluate the impact of war in this form. The mere process of nomination, entirely based on the body embraced through an idea of conflict, questions how we choose to classify war in our everyday society. It is important to realize that the overarching consequences of these actions constantly orient the way we as a society aim to interpret, recognize, and award certain behaviours. For instance, in the Olympic world, athletes with disabilities are given the medium of the Paralympics as their tool of expression; similarly, possibilities exist for veterans solely with mental disorder to be recognized and awarded.
But again, such actions may further re-enforce the divide between the mind and the body by explicitly acknowledging a fundamental difference in how we as a society interpret both injuries. The presence of the Paralympics itself acknowledges the impact of disabilities, but if it does so from a stance of charity versus a stance of actual equality is something to examine, much like the physical body and its mental delegation, and the roles that they play through war in our society.