You don’t need to consult an actuarial table to understand that we’re slowly running out of World War II veterans for the U.S. President Donald Trump to salute in the box seats during his State of the Union address.
Long before Donald Trump, American presidents showcased WWII veterans at their SOTUs because our participation in the war remains one of the few universally celebrated chapters in American history. Almost everybody valorizes the national sacrifice of the war, even if they weren’t alive to experience it, and almost every politician calls for a return to the days when we marched to the orders of the president. By honoring WWII vets, presidents attempt to project us into that sacred time of extreme unity and to associate their agenda with those shared values. It’s smart politics. In his Tuesday night address, Trump applauded guest-vets Joseph Reilly, Irving Locker, and Herman Zeitchik as heroes of the “great crusade,” singling out Zeitchik specifically for his role in taking Normandy and liberating Dachau.
But the number of WWII veterans is dwindling. Only about 400,000 survive — most of them now in their 90s—and the day approaches when none will be fit enough to travel to Washington to accept the honor. Where will presidents then turn to communicate patriotism and national purpose? Theoretically they could extol vets from the Korean War (more than 2 million) or the Vietnam War (more than 6 million). But one of those wars is too historically formless and the other too controversial to pack the same oomph.
Working down the list, we note that Trump also recognized astronaut Buzz Aldrin and the heroism of his moonwalk in his SOTU address. A hero, yes, but Aldrin’s accomplishment rings more of pure daring — like an Evel Knievel soaring over 14 Greyhound buses on a motorcycle—than it does of defeating determined adversaries. The same applies to the recent tendency by politicians to reflexively herald first responders in their speeches — all the police, firefighters, EMTs, paramedics, smoke-jumpers, Rocky Mountain snowplow drivers, and others who do emergency duty on our behalf. God bless them all, but like the young cancer survivor and the target of bullies drawn into Trump’s SOTU speech, they’re no match for the heroes from the greatest generation.
Trump’s celebration of WWII vets contains an internal contradiction worth unraveling. For one thing, he’s a noninterventionist, eager to bring troops home from the far and endless wars we’re fighting. Given his reliance on the “America First” slogan, it would be easy to imagine him joining forces with Charles Lindbergh in the 1940s to oppose entry into the European war. For another, he wants to undo many of the enduring American accomplishments made possible by the victory won by the WWII vets — a global order with the militarily vigilant United States at the center; a contained Russia; an international system of free trade; European solidarity; NATO; etc. Given his druthers, Trump would reverse everything the allies embraced except partnering with Moscow.
Special guest of the President and WWII veteran Herman Zeitchik, center, surrounded by other guests, is acknowledged during Trump’s State of the Union address. Zeitchik fought in some of WWII’s most pivotal battles | Mandel Ngan/AFP via Getty Images
Of course, Trump’s exploitation of military valor doesn’t end with World War II veterans. He routinely praises U.S. military power and persists in proposing a grand military parade in the streets of Washington because he wants to link his persona with our military warriors. His steady militarization of our southern border, like his SOTU promise to send another 3,750 troops to protect us from the “tremendous onslaught” of the caravans, likewise draws on our noble memories of the Good War.
Then again, Trump doesn’t like hot wars. He doesn’t like cold ones, either. The only form of warfare he seems to favor is trade war. “Trade wars are good, and easy to win,” as he memorably tweeted last March. Perhaps as the WWII vets die off, Trump will substitute a new breed of warrior more to his liking. He could outfit U.S. Trade Representative Robert Lighthizer in a sashed-and-bangled uniform and position him in the presidential box next to Melania Trump at the next State of the Union.
Can’t you just see Trump lifting his eyes to Lighthizer in the box to commend his bravery in the long war against the Canadian dairymen, the vicious battle with Chinese President Xi Jinping that won huge trade concessions and his daring blitzkrieg of the European Union, which succeed in reopening trade hostilities?
Jack Shafer is POLITICO’s senior media writer.