Hidden army, forgotten youth
NS September 25th, 2009
The front page of the Guardian caught my attention today: “Revealed: the hidden army in UK prisons.” In reading the article, a few passages stood out.
The number of former servicemen in prison or on probation or parole is now more than double the total British deployment in Afghanistan, according to a new survey. An estimated 20,000 veterans are in the criminal justice system, with 8,500 behind bars, almost one in 10 of the prison population.
I hadn’t heard those figures before and was somewhat taken aback by how high they were. I can’t say I was all that shocked, though. People who volunteer for jobs that rely heavily on violence, weapons and control are pretty obviously going to be more likely to have issues with violence, weapons and control, not to mention alcohol and drug abuse, mental illness and depression. The study confirms this.
The snapshot survey of 90 probation case histories of convicted veterans shows a majority with chronic alcohol or drug problems, and nearly half suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder or depression as a result of their wartime experiences on active service.
…The study provides the strongest evidence yet of a direct link between the mental health of those returning from combat zones, chronic alcohol and drug abuse and domestic violence.
Now, I could be cynical and surmise that the armed forces simply attract people more prone to violence and mental illness, but even though I think that’s true in a very small percentage of cases, I know that most people entering the service in Britain do so out of a sense of duty to their country or at least because it may offer them a good career path, one they might not have access to otherwise. Essentially (the theory goes), they generally start off innocently, without malicious intent, and are only corrupted by the violence and mayhem they witness over a period of time.
According to military experts, psychologists specialising in post-traumatic stress syndrome and others, if, as a result of their environment and training, soldiers suffer such ills and traumas as to make them criminals and addicts, they should receive help and counseling from the State.
Taking all of this into consideration, I can’t help but draw parallels between this “hidden army,” these deeply wounded soldiers, and the entire, forgotten class of young people, mainly men, being locked away for very similar reasons and offenses. If veterans make up 10% of the prison population, who is making up the other 90%? It isn’t the unscrupulous City traders and high-flying fraudsters, that is certain.
The vast majority of the prison population is made up of poor men and boys who have also suffered under this truism: violence begets violence. An entire ‘underclass’ of people in this country live with, grow up around, see, experience, live and breathe unimaginable violence every single day. From the moment they are born until the steel door slams behind them, be it institution gate or coffin lid, the scourges of society befall them — drink, drugs, poverty, mental illness, separation from family, violence, rape, and being witness to death and destruction.
Make no mistake, they are no less foot soldiers in a war than those lying in a desert bunkhole in Afghanistan right now, military-issued rifles clutched to their chests as they wait out the attack. The only difference between them is that British soldiers are given weapons with which to defend themselves and have the support and concern of the public. Men and boys who grow up experiencing horrific abuse, who are drafted into gangs before they can even read, who are forced to do whatever it takes to survive in their hostile worlds…they were in combat situations, too.
Poverty is a battle for which its unwilling participants are given no armour, and no choice. Those who joined the armed forces at least have an idea of what they might be getting into. That doesn’t mean I have less sympathy for them, but as a pacifist who isn’t easily swayed by patriotism and duty as reasons to fight and who knows that we couldn’t have wars without willing soldiers, no matter how ‘noble’ the cause, it does give me pause for thought.
Poor children at the fringes of society had no such say in the matter. And yet, we look down on them in disgust, cheer when one of them is locked away in a prison cell and shout “Throw away the key!” We’d grind our middle-class heels on their crime-riddled hearts if given half a chance. The baying crowds have always needed witches to round up and burn, after all.
We’ll continue as we are, ignoring the problem and sticking our heads in the sand until The Problem starts breaking into our homes and beating strangers in parks and leaving empty beer cans on our lawn. We’ll beat our chests about it and call Those People every name in the book, wishing they’d just go away or learn to be more like us. And then we’ll slap yellow ribbons on our windows and cars — “Support the troops!” they demand — oblivious to the ex-Marine down the street getting drunk and beating his wife in a terror-induced rage.
All of this just highlights the ridiculousness of using violence and war to end… violence and war. Neither are viable ways to achieve peaceful ends. A culture that encourages both will eventually destroy itself.
- Activism , I Bitch Therefore I Am , In The News
- Comments(3)
A really interesting read. I struggle a bit with the parallels you draw between men trapped in poverty and those in the armed services. The armed forces consist of men and women from a wide variety of backgrounds across the class structure (horrible phrase but you know what I mean). I can imagine that ex-members of the armed services which are now in prison are more likely to have come from the impoverished background you describe. If so, do they not also deserve our sympathy as those from a difficult background but who chose not to serve? I write as someone with a brother in the armed forces who’s served in Afghanistan and Iraq. Like you, I call myself a pacifist so I find myself struggling with this at times, but I also admire his sense of duty to his country. Fascinating read though, you write some interesting posts I’ve read a number before and have meant to comment before now.
Great post and wonderfully written. I wonder what the situation is in the U.S. You hear a lot about vets coming back with emotional problems and domestic violence and the occasional murder. But I’ve not seen figures on incarceration.
And your point about class. Absolutely true. I did a number of prison visits in the U.K. and the class disparity in the prison population really struck home.
Of course in the U.S., there’s the whole issue of race and imprisonment. Mandatory minimums for crack versus powder cocaine and on and on.
But that’s a whole ‘nother kettle of fish.
@Whistlejacket – I’m not so sure that the evidence bears out your assertion that ex-servicepeople who are in prison came from impoverished or ‘low-class’ backgrounds. If that were the case there wouldn’t be so much concern. At least a good proportion, if not the majority, of military men committing these crimes come from ‘normal’ backgrounds with nothing previous to indicate a violent character or drug problem. Therefore, it is assumed that war and the elements of strict control within the military played at least a pretty big part in their current behaviour or addiction. That is why I drew a parallel between the witnessing of violent behaviour and the expression of it and I do think it is relevant.
I can understand supporting your brother’s sense of duty and being proud of him, and how that must be hard to reconcile with your pacifist views. I think it’s something those who are anti-war but with family and friends in the military often struggle with. Thank you for commenting!
@A Free Man – I don’t know the figures in the US but I’m willing to bet that they’re similar. And you’re absolutely right that the bigger problem in American prisons is race disparity, not class, though the two are inextricably tied, of course. Bring in religion and the war on drugs and it’s one big, huge mess.