Camilo Mejia: convicted
war deserter speaks
BY Bert Berlowe
Camilo Mejia wanted to say “thank you.”
Facing a packed coffee hour crowd in the basement of the Resource
Center of the Americas last Saturday morning, Mejia recalled how
the Center had helped him get through long, lonely months behind
bars. “I’m especially happy to be here,” he said.
“The Resource Center supported me when I was in prison. You
were one of the groups that helped keep me in touch with reality.
I feel like this is ‘pay back.’ ”
The Resource Center was one of several places
Mejia visited during his weekend stop in the Twin Cities, part of
a national speaking tour. Mejia was the first Iraq soldier to declare
conscientious objector status, for which he spent nine months in
jail. At each of his visits to faith communities, college campuses
and the Resource Center, Camilo told his riveting personal story,
beginning with growing up in an activist Latin American household
and ending with his searing experiences in Iraq.
He explained that despite reservations about
war he joined the army in hopes that it would help him finish college,
only to be shipped to Iraq during the early days of the U.S. intervention.
“Right away I thought that the war didn’t make sense,”
he said. “There were no weapons of mass destruction, no links
to 9/11. I had signed a contract with the military. I realized that
I had signed my soul away. After that, my life didn’t belong
to me. I had to obey orders and push my principles aside and go
on.”
Mejia reluctantly continued to do his duty even
as he witnessed the torture of detainees at a POW camp, fearing
that if he spoke up he would be considered unpatriotic. “Then
one day we were stationed near a mosque in the Sunni Triangle and
deliberately starting firefights. We were supposed to be helping
the Iraqi people but all we were doing was building bases. I saw
this vehicle that had been riddled with bullets actually ‘lit
up’ with an aura around it and a man inside twitching from
the bullets hitting him. Instinctively, robotically, I raised my
rifle and fired at the vehicle. It was like we were a violent valet
parking service.
“That began my transformation. I realized
I had a higher purpose. I started thinking about war in a way that
had nothing to do with politics. It was personal. I was not just
against that war but against all war. It was getting so every time
you went to the bathroom or left the base you were afraid of getting
blown up. You become a killing machine. In order to survive you'll
shoot at anything.”
When Mejia went home on leave he found himself
crying and thinking a lot. “I had the peace and clarity of
mind without the pressure of the battle field. The more I thought
about my military service the more I realized it was wrong. I began
to think about not going back. It was the most difficult decision
I have ever made, a conflict between my antiwar feelings and the
guilt of abandoning friends in the military and the commitment I
had made. Finally, I decided not to go back, to declare myself a
conscientious objector. I surrendered and went to trial.”
Mejia was convicted of being a deserter, sentenced
to a year-long prison term, demoted from a sergeant to a private
and deprived of some of his benefits. He credits the support he
received from many peace and justice organizations with helping
him survive his incarceration, and with being released three months
early. Since then, he has joined Vets for Peace, has been speaking
out against what he calls “a war for oil,” and military
recruitment, and is writing a book about his experiences. Despite
the hardships it has caused, he has no regrets about his decision
to abandon the military. He also encourages others to stand up for
their beliefs. As he said at the end of his RCA appearance, “people
realize the power they have within them to make change.”
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