I was sorry to see that the military parade marking the 250th anniversary of the founding of the Armed Forces wasn’t exactly a proud or inspiring spectacle. Or at least it wasn't from what I saw on Facebook and in the media.
My sorrow was for the participants, who may or may not have been there willingly. I also felt a little sorry for the president, who I suspect was not a happy person when it was all said and done.
I didn’t watch the parade. Nor did I watch any of the No Kings protests. I posted a small No Kings protest on my blog and felt like that was all I could manage right now. I’m not much into marching.
According to historian Heather Cox Richardson, whom I trust on such matters, June 14 really was the birthday of the Armed Forces. She wrote:
…on June 14, 1775, the Second Continental Congress resolved “That six companies of expert riflemen, be immediately raised in Pennsylvania, two in Maryland, and two in Virginia; that each company consist of a captain, three lieutenants, four serjeants, four corporals, a drummer or trumpeter, and sixty-eight privates… [and that] each company, as soon as completed, shall march and join the army near Boston, to be there employed as light infantry, under the command of the chief Officer in that army.”
And thus Congress established the Continental Army.
Unfortunately, the original justification for the parade was the president’s birthday. That announcement raised eyebrows even among his most devoted followers, especially with a $50 million price tag. After public outcry, which also happened when he floated the idea during his first term, the event pivoted to commemorate the Army’s formation instead.
But by then, it was too late.
No Kings Day had taken hold. And depending on which estimate you believe, anywhere from five to thirteen million people marched in opposition to the practices, projects, and prejudices of the current administration.
I was surprised to find that I felt anything at all about the military parade. I consider myself a pacifist. Intellectually, I know that if everyone simply put down their weapons and walked away, there’d be no need to kill. I also know human beings don’t work that way. I took enough sociology courses in college to understand that the forces behind many of our emotions and actions don’t always make sense. They just are.
Empathy is part of who I am, even for people I disagree with—or actively dislike. Hopefully that speaks well of my character.
I see it as layers. The military folks were just doing their jobs. Some probably weren’t thrilled to be part of a PR stunt. Many may have had mixed feelings or were simply ordered to participate without a say. And even the president, behind all the spectacle, looked like a lonely, grasping human. I admit I felt a flicker of pity for him. Where was his family? He seems to have no support. I don’t like to see anyone flailing in public, even if they are powerful, abrasive, and dangerous.
Empathy doesn’t mean approval. It just means I’m still able to feel. I guess that makes me very “woke,” to have empathy for a man I despise.
But I’m human, and I think a lot.
Sometimes, that leads me down strange paths. And in this world full of noise and division, I wonder if empathy might be the last quiet act of rebellion.