Book Reviews

Achilles In Vietnam
Jonathan Shay, M.D., Ph.D.

In this remarkable book Shay uses Homer’s Iliad, a 3,000 year old poem, to help us understand the psychological and emotional damage done to soldiers of the Vietnam War. In the process he gives a cogent, clear voice to what went very wrong in both wars. His arguments are incisive and convincing. Yet as thorough as his analysis is, it is the words of soldiers that are most compelling and provide the heart of the book.

Two basic concepts, thémis (what's right) and mênis (indignant rage), serve as counterpoints and as such are crucial to understanding the many broken spirits (otherwise known rather clinically and coolly as Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome PTSD) of war veterans.

The betrayal of what is right came in many forms in Vietnam: M-16 rifles that didn't work, victories that were not victories; where innocent civilians or some of their own fellow soldiers were killed and yet such actions could be reframed as a great daring success for which bewildered soldiers received medals and where distribution of risk was unjust. In World War II 77 colonels died in combat, or one for every 2,206 men, while in Vietnam only 8 colonials died for every 3,407 men. This while there was a full colonel for every 672 enlisted men in the Second World War as opposed to a colonel for every 163 men during Vietnam. These are but a few of the examples that lead to demoralization, bitterness and ultimately for many either emotional numbness or mênis, indignant rage. Such betrayal is not restricted to Vietnam but now continues in Iraq. Retired Gen. Greg Newbold recently described this very sense of betrayal when he wrote: "My sincere view is that the commitment of our forces to this fight was done with a casualness and swagger that are the special province of those who have never had to execute these missions - or bury the results (New York Times, OP-ED, A13, April 15, 2006).

Drawing on reading of the Iliad, Shay writes:

Homer and the Greek tragic poets held the terrifying view that
apparently stable adult character continues to be dependent and
vulnerable, even after it has been established by good nurturing
in childhood. According to these tragic poets, good character
is dependent on good-enough stability and reliability of thémis
and remains vulnerable to high-stakes betrayal of thémis by power
holders. The moral dimension of trauma destroys virtue, undoes
good character (pg. 37).

Trauma, where thémis is violated regularly, ruptures and ultimately destroys a sense of safety leaving even adults terrified and disoriented. Under such conditions character can unravel to the point where even the soldier himself no longer recognized what is right or wrong and any and all types of behavior which were morally repugnant previously now become possible. There is a disconnection from the human community and there is a grave risk that as a result all restraint will be lost: "December 22, 1967 is the day that the civilized me became an animal..." (pg. 82). This was a repeated feature in the stories of many Vietnam vets Shay treated, but generated by grievous betrayals of trust such sentiments were also present in the Iliad: "I built up such hate, I couldn't do enough damage...I lost all my mercy."

These soldiers from ancient Greece and more recently from Vietnam had to survive and somehow sustain themselves in terribly difficult situations. They spent long periods of time living with uncertainty, danger, violence and betrayal. Despite the horror I felt for some of the actions perpetrated by fighting men in both eras I also experienced a greater understanding and empathy for the vulnerable nature of what we can so glibly refer to as character. Since we are all more human, more alike than not, we really don't know how we would respond if or when our sense of justice and decency was continually violated. What would we do if those in our life who are supposed to be the most trustworthy expose us to mortal danger or lie to us constantly or selfishly disregard our emotional well being and health? Is there really any truth in the Platonic ideal that "good character will always prevail" or, as I have come to believe, is "good character" inexorably tied to the human connections that provide dignity, respect for others, maturity and the like? And when there is "the undoing of character" isn't it these same kind of relationships that offer measures of repair and healing, a restoration if you will of what is right? Yes, a return journey to thémis.