Two terms or phrases have struck me recently, in that the implications of them seem worth exploring or that I’ve been puzzled by them.

What makes a strike illegal? There is talk of a potential teachers' strike in Boston this coming Thursday. The city has made plans to close public schools and lengthen hours at libraries, community centers, etc. if that happens. This is always referred to as an "illegal strike." The term, used without explanation, certainly does not do good things for the public’s perception of the teachers.

When did we switch from having "soldiers" to having "troops"? That change seems to minimize the aggressive side of soldiering without adding clarity of meaning. A soldier might kill people, but a troop could be trusted with fluffy bunnies.

It reminds me of the "war story" that Tom Engelhardt discusses in The End of Victory Culture: Cold War America and the Disillusioning of a Generation (published in 1995). This narrative held that Americans fought only reluctantly and solely in justified battles. Engelhardt sees this war story as present throughout American history, beginning with the terminology of settlement, which discounted the violence of white "settlers" invading Native American lands. Other narratives -- including captivity stories from colonial times, movie Westerns, and cinematic portrayals of the Pacific Front -- all reinforced the "war story’s cleansed contours."[1] Sneak attacks by large hosts of brutal enemies forced the beleaguered settlers, cowboys, and G.I.s to fight for their lives and seemed to validate the strongest possible response from the protagonists. Engelhardt argues that this story "spell[ed] out . . . a framework for the annihilation of a savage enemy," whitewashing American violence and leaving the American sense of self untarnished.[2]

It’s an intriguing book. One image has remained particularly powerful. Engelhardt explains that the "yellow ribbon" entered the American mainstream as a reminder of those held captive during the Iran hostage crisis. He then argues that, when the symbol was revived for the Persian Gulf War I (1991), the yellow ribbon "emphasized the role of U.S. troops as victims."[3] The same could, I believe, be said today.

Engelhardt presents his current musings as an "anecdote to the mainstream media" at his blog. I nonetheless offer one last comment from his book. He’s discussing the U.S. attitude toward communism during the Cold War here, but I think his insight still applies:

[D]efending the credibility of U.S. power or its "reputation" proved a pale substitute for victory. Victory had been a self-evident state. If you looked at your humbled enemy, it was only for confirmation of what you already knew about yourself. Buried in credibility, however, was doubt. You now had to stare into enemy eyes to gauge your success, to see your national self.[4]

Perhaps I'm reading too much into all of this. But words matter. They shape how we understand our world and the stories we tell about events. They even affect the questions that we ask -- maybe even those that we can ask.