Being a pacifist sometimes seems like swimming against the Pacific Ocean (I live in Seattle). When I was about to turn 18 my local draft board ordered me to register for the draft. I complied, not giving it much thought. But once I stepped inside my local draft board I knew I couldn’t be part of the military.
I can’t put my finger on why I felt that way. It was late 1962 and there was not much happening that would have educated me. However, as the years have rolled by I honestly think it had nothing to do with my political feelings, but was based entirely on my Jewish upbringing and education.
There were other Jewish 18-year-olds who didn’t feel the way I felt. So why was I so adamant against even signing my name to the bottom of a blank form? And why was I so sure that I was only going to fill out the Conscientious Objection form and apply for a CO classification?
My feelings have not changed over the years. At times I feel like a fish out of water in relation to the mass culture around me. When Memorial Day (formerly known as Decoration Day) is celebrated on the last Monday in May, there are parades with speeches and military bands, all to give thanks for those who have served our country in the military.
But the truth is that I and many other Conscientious Objectors also served the country by giving two years of our lives doing our CO service. In lieu of being in the military I worked two years for a non-profit organization at a home for children with learning difficulties. In our militarized culture there seems to be little mention of the COs who have served time in prison, have done meaningful work in mental hospitals, and have actually been part of the military as medical personnel. We should have a day dedicated to these people as well. Their contributions have been admirable.
However, there is a saving grace for all of us: the Jewish Peace Fellowship. Since I was 20 I have found like-minded people in the JPF. On one of my first trips to New York City, I attended a JPF board meeting and met Rabbi Isidor Hoffman. He was one of the three founders of the JPF in 1941 and for many years the Hillel rabbi at Columbia University. Later he and I walked across town on 59th Street in Manhattan, and I will never forget that day. We spoke of peace issues that were central to both of us, and he was unswerving in his beliefs and how he looked at the world. He helped me to secure a better understanding of why I felt so alienated at age 18 and why the views of the JPF are the true values of Judaism.
P.S. As I write this, the Utah State Senate is considering a measure that would declare the .45-caliber handgun (Browning M1911) as the official state firearm. This would be the first time any state has declared an official state gun. Is this the message we should be sending to our young people, or to the rest of the world for that matter?