Days of Shock

By Roger Rosenblatt

At the start, all one had was images of airports: the airport in Beirut where the bodies of Marines lay stacked in aluminum coffins like salesmen's sample cases, and the airport in Grenada where Marines and Army Rangers swooped down for a surprise invasion. So sudden were both events that Americans could not take them in together, except to note that both involved U.S. troops fighting wars in strange places, and the projection of their Government's foreign policy in two disparate quarters of the world. Lebanon and Grenada. Why were we there, and how were those places related? If the U.S. served a peace-keeping mission in Lebanon, when did we become the enemy? And what was Grenada, anyway? The last one heard of that bead of an island, the President was fuming about Grenadians' consorting with Cubans and extending their runway for military purposes. Airports again.

As the week went on, the mind shifted rapidly between the sites as if they were split pictures on a TV screen. On the level of feelings, one could focus grief and apprehension on Beirut. But there on the tropical isle was a scene of emerging victory, one was told. Sorrow one place, triumph the other. Was patriotism supposed to drown out grief? Mourn and dig in?

More than feelings were confused. One had to grasp what was really happening in these two places. By midweek the public would be assailed continually by Congressmen, columnists, editorial writers, who were themselves hustling to catch up with the news. Lebanon was a bad idea in the beginning, but it was a good idea now--right? Don't back down--right? Lebanon was stupid, but Grenada was smart. Or was it the other way around? Americans went to Lebanon to stabilize the country; that must be good. Americans went to Grenada to rescue U.S. citizens; that must be good too, if in fact the citizens had been endangered, and upon returning, most of them confirmed that they were. No more Irans--right? But what about the growing Soviet menace the President spoke of in his speech on Thursday night? If the American people had trouble connecting Lebanon and Grenada, clearly the President had no such difficulty. So we were in those countries not solely for peace and rescue after all, but because of the Soviets. Would we go anywhere, or everywhere, because of the Soviets? One looked at the President harder than ever.

One looked inward as well. Throughout the week Marine recruiting officers reported a land-office business, so eager were boys to join the fights. The press might criticize Lebanon and Grenada, but judging from polls taken after Thursday night's speech, most of the public stood with Reagan. Was Viet Nam finally over, then, and the U.S. feeling its oats? To hell with moderate containment? And there were abstract questions too, which went to the heart of national purpose. When the desire to provide freedom requires the use of force, is freedom damaged in the bargain?

By week's end Americans were left with a sense of military vulnerability and of military efficiency; sorrow, anxiety and problems. They were also left with an unnerving sense of distance from their Government. One might not mind taking responsibility for one's nation's actions, if they could be understood more readily or completely, but as yet that was not to be. This much was certain: summer was over, and the nation was on alert. In the near future, inevitably, would come charges, investigations, recriminations and a serious examination of national tendencies and intentions. For the moment there were images of airports again, this time American airports. Medical students bounded from the aircraft, kissed the ground and gave thanks for being home. The Marines returning from Lebanon had nothing left to give.

--By Roger Rosenblatt This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.