His dishonorable discharge would strip him of almost all the benefits that he will need to heal and to reconcile with society.
In the view of many people, Sgt. Bowe Bergdahl got off easy. His sentence for desertion and misbehavior before the enemy in Afghanistan in 2009, which was handed down Friday, included a dishonorable discharge and no jail time. Sergeant Bergdahl faced the possibility of life in a military prison, so his chief defense lawyer expressed “tremendous relief” at the sentence. But a dishonorable discharge is also a type of life sentence, a perpetual exile from the resources and communities that veterans, especially prisoners of war, need to heal and to reconcile with society.
Eight years ago, Sergeant Bergdahl intentionally walked away from his post in Afghanistan. He had a highly unusual reason for leaving: He was marching to another base to blow the whistle on commanders that he believed were incompetent and dangerous. After less than a day of travel, he was captured by the Taliban.
After almost five years in Taliban captivity, I was doubtful that the Army would give Sergeant Bergdahl a life sentence; even the prosecutors capped their request at 14 years. He was guilty of crimes that led to the grave injury of other service members, but after years of working with veterans with less-than-honorable discharges, I thought about how Sergeant Bergdahl, a disabled prisoner of war, would lead the rest of his civilian life. If he was given a dishonorable discharge at 31 years old, how he could mend his wounds, attempt to pay his moral and civic debts, and contribute to the nation?
At a preliminary hearing, Terrence Russell, a senior Department of Defense expert in personnel recovery, testified that Sergeant Bergdahl was held “in conditions that if it were a dog, you’d be thrown in jail for pet abuse.” He was tortured and beaten. For three years, he lived in a seven-foot cube. For three and a half years, he had uncontrollable diarrhea that he scrubbed off his body with dirt and washed off with urine. According to Mr. Russell, the conditions of Sergeant Bergdahl’s sadistic captivity rated among the “most horrible” the military had seen in 60 years; as a prisoner, Mr. Russell said, Sergeant Bergdahl “had to fight off the enemy alone for four years and 11 months.”
Mr. Bergdahl is home now, but in many ways he’s never left the pillory. He returned to rampant slander and unsubstantiated rumors of treason. President Obama had swapped prisoners for Bergdahl’s release, but would not spend the political capital to resolve his case. And, in an egregious act of unlawful command influence, President Donald J. Trump maintained that Bergdahl was a “dirty rotten traitor” who should be shot.
As a matter of propriety, military commanders — including the commander in chief — are supposed to refrain from influencing pending matters of military justice, since their subordinates are expected to act without bias. Col. Jeffrey R. Nance, the sentencing judge, acknowledged the import of Trump’s toxic statements, but despite the protests of Sergeant Bergdahl’s lawyers, Colonel Nance felt that he could remain unbiased and refused to dismiss Sergeant Bergdahl’s case.
Sergeant Bergdahl and future troops would have benefited from a swift condemnation of Mr. Trump’s de facto attempts at judge-tampering. Sergeant Bergdahl’s sentence is under final review by military authorities, including the Army Court of Criminal Appeals, and on Friday, the president continued to try to exert influence, calling the sentence, as it stands, a “total disgrace to our country and our military.”
Sergeant Bergdahl will soon receive his dishonorable discharge. He will be a civilian with significant physical disabilities, post-traumatic stress disorder and a very high risk of suicide. Of the six types of discharge, dishonorable is the most punishing. When he is discharged, Sergeant Bergdahl will be denied almost all reintegration benefits — including comprehensive medical — and he will also not be recognized as a veteran by the federal government. He will come back wounded to family and friends who love him, without the expert medical care of a country that must balance its responsibility to punish him and to heal him.
The trajectory of Sergeant Bergdahl’s career speaks to tragic and avoidable flaws in the military mental health care system. Sergeant Bergdahl suffers from schizotypal personality disorder, and it was only after a mental health-related discharge from the Coast Guard that the Army enlisted him on a medical waiver. If his illness had been treated before his crimes, he could have been eligible for an honorable discharge with benefits. The available military record shows that when Sergeant Bergdahl left his place of duty, he was an exemplary, idealistic young soldier who lived with mental illness, not a traitor.
Sergeant Bergdahl’s offenses put the lives of fellow soldiers at risk. At his court-martial, prosecutors highlighted several profound and permanent injuries to troops during the search for Sergeant Bergdahl, but Army investigators have stated that none were killed during attempts to find him.
Sergeant Bergdahl has expressed profound remorse and admitted that he “made a horrible mistake” when he left his post. In his skewed logic, he believed that he “was trying to help,” and it was never his intention “for anyone to be hurt.”
There is still a chance for the military to review and reduce the sentence, but if they choose to uphold it, Sergeant Bergdahl deserves the immediate intervention of civilian-led authorities who have the power to use clemency to grant a less severe discharge. By definition, clemency is an act of mercy. It would not absolve Sergeant Bergdahl of guilt, but both the secretary of the Army and the Army Board for Correction of Military Records have the authority to use it to give him a less severe discharge that preserves the benefits that he needs to heal and to lead a long life.
Clemency is rare, but if Sergeant Bergdahl’s voluminous public record is a guide, I believe that he could present a strong case. Authorities must consider mitigating factors, including his in-service conduct, wounds he received in action, his mental health, and whether he met normal military accession standards.
Sergeant Bergdahl’s military service cannot be reduced to his crimes. I would argue that his profound and unexpected contribution to the military truly began the day he was captured.
Although Sergeant Bergdahl had left his post and put others in danger, he fought, resisted, collected a “gold mine” of intelligence on the enemy and — at great risk to his life — tried to escape multiple times, including a daring attempt where in which he eluded the Taliban for eight and a half days.
