Col. Patrick Mercer has polarized the British debate on racism. To some, he is proof that Conservative leader David Cameron is a mere cosmetic and that his party is still steeped in barbarism. To others, he is a martyr to political correctness and a victim of his leader’s cowardice. Both views are held strongly. Both are wrong. The first group is entirely misreading Patrick Mercer.
In early 1998, the BBC made a program about racial issues in the British Army. They wanted to film a battalion going about its daily duties. The Ministry of Defense steered them toward the Sherwood Foresters (nicknamed Robin Hood’s Own). The commanding officer of that regiment was Patrick Mercer. Without making a fuss about race or allowing it to interfere with soldiering, Pat Mercer had a good story to tell when it came to racial harmony. Soldiers who served with him have been rushing to defend his record. That is unnecessary. Nothing needs defending.
At one stage, all five of his company sergeant-majors were black. Everyone in the battalion knew that they had not been promoted because they were black any more than they would not have been promoted because they were black. In Robin Hood’s Own, as in all regiments, there was a lot of banter and, for some reason, the principal targets were red-haired men. The soldiers refer to them as “gwaas”. Though no one knows the origin of that term, it is bound to be obscene. Col. Mercer was once in a Warrior-armored vehicle. The gunner was black and the second-in-command had ginger hair. The radio operator broadcasted: “We have a gwaa in the car.” “I’m not a gwaa,” said the young officer, “I’m a strawberry blond.” The gunner then joined in: “A gwaa in the car and a nigger on the trigger.” If everyone could joke as those soldiers did, race relations in Britain would be less tense.
Last week, Pat Mercer tried to make an important point, which was lost in the furor. Political correctness should have as little to do with military training as with military humor. Not long ago, 18-year-old boys were patrolling the Falls Road and South Armagh. Some of them were black. When the inhabitants saw them, they were not inclined to remark that although the British Army had no business in occupied Ireland, it should at least be praised for embracing diversity. It was more likely those lads would be told that if they did not get back to the trees, they would be going home in a box. So it was important that the soldiers had already learned self-control.
The army teaches that by toughening up its recruits and cauterizing their sensitivities, including sensitivities about color. This requires a realistic context. It is no use telling the lad that he is about to receive 38.2 seconds of carefully calibrated racial abuse but he is not to take it seriously. It will work best if the training sergeant waits until the boy feels that he is more knackered than any human being before him.
The black recruit should not feel especially victimized. A good training sergeant should ensure that all his squad has its share of victimization. At some stage during basic training, every recruit should feel that his sergeant is the most sadistic swine in military history. By the end, each recruit should feel that he is walking taller and prouder than he ever thought possible; that he and his mates, with whom he has bonded, plus their sergeant, whom he has come to respect, could take on and beat an enemy force of 10 times their numbers. The army is good at that sort of training, and we have seen the benefits in Basra and Afghanistan. So let them get on with it.
Even so, Cameron was right to sack Col. Mercer. There is a catch-all charge in the British Army, applicable to any idle soldier in the nonperformance of his duties: “Conduct prejudicial to good order and military discipline”. Pat Mercer was guilty of conduct prejudicial to good order and political discipline.
A colonel who had to find a way through a minefield would plan his route. In politics, race is a heavily mined issue. Yet Pat Mercer charged into the race-field. As he thought that he was talking for background, he did not craft his thoughts as he would have done in an on-the-record interview. But he should have clarified the terms of engagement. He should have remembered that time spent on reconnaissance is never wasted.
There was a further complication. When Col. Mercer’s views were published, Gen. Cameron was in the midst of an offensive, on family policy. He believes that he has blasted holes in the Labour front line. But unless he sacked Mercer, the entire media would have talked about nothing else and the family campaign would have run out of momentum.
In politics, as in war, commanders are entitled to dismiss subordinates who disrupt their strategy.
In 1990, the late Nicholas Ridley laid into the Germans, virtually accusing Chancellor Kohl of being Hitler’s political disciple. But Ridley had to resign from Margaret Thatcher’s Cabinet. Yet there was an irony. In private, one member of that Cabinet agreed with everything Ridley had said — Margaret Thatcher. She had often made similar comments. Even so, she hardly hesitated before making it clear that he had to go. She knew that his language was grossly impolitic, and that even if she thought he was telling the truth, this was no defense.
Those involved in politics are not like witnesses in a criminal trial. In almost all cases, politicians should tell the truth and nothing but the truth. But not the whole truth; that could be fatal.
