Merry Christmas, Kandahar!

This Christmas, Canadians should consider the enduring debt of gratitude we owe the men and women in uniform who protect Canada at home and abroad.

In the last half-decade that I have worked as an academic at the Canadian Forces College, I have had a unique and interesting vantage point to engage with, study, learn from, and yes, even teach officers in the CF. And although the profile of the military has increased exponentially since 9-11 and especially given our engagement in Afghanistan, there’s nothing like working with men and women in uniform every day to increase your appreciation of what they do and how they do it. I suppose you might dismiss all that I have to say on the presumed basis that I have been co-opted, but please think twice. The question to ask is not why I work for the military, but what it says about the CF that it hires academics from a range of perspectives and disciplines to challenge and educate their future leadership while guaranteeing our freedom to think and publish in the process.

At social gatherings I quite often get asked – by educated professionals who work in downtown Toronto and who have virtually no experience with the military – what it’s like to work for the CF. The first thing I gently remind people is that the military doesn’t correspond to the stereotype. Not that this should be a surprise, given that we’ve done a lot to deconstruct the mythologies on which stereotypes are based – both sociologically and historically – in every other segment of society. But it’s still amazing to see how quickly we want to put the military into a particular box. We’re probably even more prone to do so because we think we know more than we do. As we are lucky enough to be living in Canada, most of us will never actually experience a conflict zone first-hand – the closest we get is by watching Hollywood war films or action thrillers that too often portray American soldiers as psychologically damaged by conflicts on which directors wish to make a particular visual or narrative statement. Fair enough, I suppose, but it largely distorts the popular cultural view. My own experience defies that stereotype. If I had to generalize, I’d say that many in the CF have a darker view of human nature than my own – garnered from deployment experiences of the last two decades, which have placed many in harm’s way in the hell holes of the planet. At the same time, however, it takes an enormous level of optimism to continue to believe that you can make a difference in what amounts to a public service occupation with the greatest possible personal risk.

The second thing I tell my friends is that the Canadian Forces is like a small city. Population: just under 100,000, counting both regular-force and reserve members. After a few years, by far less than six degrees of separation, you know people who know your friends, and others know of you before you’ve even met. As in most tightly-knit communities, your reputation matters, and although military hierarchy is deeply attuned to rank and automatic deference according to the number of stripes on your shoulder, earned respect is critically important as well. For me, this means that by now I’ve known dozens and dozens of CF members who have served overseas, most recently in Kandahar.

This will be the last Christmas for Canada’s combat troops in Afghanistan before the mission morphs into a role focused more directly on training and supporting Afghan forces largely in Kabul. According to the government, we will shift from the direct provision of security to focus on education, human rights, the rule of law, strengthening diplomacy, and delivering humanitarian assistance. Nonetheless, based on my own meagre experience, I can assure you that these goals and values have infused the planning and the leadership decisions at all levels all along – that’s part of what it means to be a Canadian in the field. Polls tell us that Canadians have been very mixed in their views about the current mission – with good reason, given its longevity, its complexity, and the number of casualties experienced – but thankfully not about the men and women who have been sent overseas by their government.

As it happens, I’ve got some close friends in Kandahar this Christmas, and I’ll be thinking of them warmly and fondly as we carve the turkey on Dec. 25. I’ll also be reflecting on the cultural make-up of my own holiday table – where my 14 family members and guests hail from six different countries and represent four of the world’s major religions – and how this is what Canada stands for: friends laughing, sharing food and family stories, enriching each other’s lives with different traditions; believing in peace and human rights because we have made it happen here. I will hope and pray that I don’t hear Brig.-Gen. Dean Milner’s solemn voice honouring a Canadian killed in a bomb blast when I turn on my radio (I much prefer to think of Dean laughing and challenging me in a classroom – although I know he’s much more comfortable in his sandbox than in mine!).

And so, from the bottom of my heart, I want to wish all my friends in the CF, and most particularly all those serving overseas, especially in Kandahar, a very Merry Christmas. We collectively owe you an enduring debt of gratitude for defending – and indeed representing – Canada at home and abroad.