Diversity benefits our military, and civilians must be protected

When I learned the Pentagon is dismantling its Civilian Protection Center of Excellence and its DEI — diversity, equality, and inclusion — programs, memories from my 31 years as a naval officer resurfaced.

Shortly after Sept. 11, 2001, I was in Afghanistan for a brief mission as head of the Navy’s strategic anti-terrorism unit. Rules of engagement permitted laser-guided munition strikes against any white Toyota truck, since intelligence said the Taliban had purchased hundreds of those — ignoring that innocent families might be inside, or that farmers might have purchased the white Toyota trucks also.

When the SEALs — the Navy’s elite special ops force — brought Afghans into camp, some of the detainees were clearly noncombatants, sometimes villagers with mental, behavioral, or emotional disabilities. “We have to take whomever tribal elders tell us are Taliban or al-Qaida for the bounty we offer,” one of the SEALs explained to me.

When these practices were reported back to then-Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld, he changed these rules of engagement. Rumsfeld, America’s military leader under both Presidents Gerald Ford and George W. Bush, knew war could be waged while still adhering to U.S. values regarding civilians. Our country’s top warriors created the Civilian Protection Center of Excellence, and dismantling it now belies needs they themselves identified as necessary to prevent harm to civilians.

The military and advancement within it must be open to — and welcoming of — the best from every demographic.

Regarding the proposed shuttering of DEI programs, other memories returned from my many years in the Navy.

I joined up in 1974, when there were race riots on aircraft carriers. On my first ship, frustrated with unaddressed differences in treatment, the African American crew members “protested” by lining up at attention on the pier during their lunch hour under an August sun. They returned to work at hour’s end. The ship’s commanding officer spoke with some of the crew members afterward and heard about, and sought to address, concerns such as being disproportionately assigned onboard duty on holidays and long weekends.

Studies have found that trainings taken in service supporting racial and gender inclusion can have some impact. Although their overall effectiveness varies, they do set a tone that enables wider receptivity and overcomes unacknowledged discrimination — and not just in race or gender, as the following example illuminates.

As head of the Navy strategy office prior to U.S. involvement in Afghanistan, one of my side duties was reviewing the selection of officers to attend civilian graduate schools. This political-military education was in preparation for shore assignments such as the National Security Council. Noting someone with a superb performance record had not been selected, I asked how the decision was made. The board’s head told me, “He’s a SEAL.”

At the time, SEALs were less appreciated than they are now, and some considered them “knuckle-draggers.” Instructed to conduct the review again, without discrimination, the SEAL was selected. I never mentioned it, but years later, when meeting up with a small team of SEALs in a broken-down Afghan farmhouse, the leader drew close and said before heading into the night, “Thank you, sir, for intervening to get me to Stanford.”

According to a 2022 study from the Pentagon’s Office of People Analytics, fewer than a quarter of Americans ages 17-24 qualify for service, and fewer than 10% of Americans in that age group say they would seriously consider signing up. It’s why the Navy offers up to $140,000 in enlistment bonuses and loan repayment for new recruits. Rather than lowering standards to meet quotas, this ensures we get the best from every demographic.

For example, consider the role of women in combat.

When my aircraft carrier battle group arrived off Afghanistan in 2002, we initially launched mainly experienced pilots — many from the first Gulf War — while filtering in new aviators. One night mission had seven male pilots and one young, new, female pilot.

No one was to drop below 20,000 feet without permission, since the Taliban had ground-to-air Stinger missiles that reached 15,000-18,000 feet. The pilots were to wait until we had time to move a countermeasure asset over for protection.

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But eight special forces soldiers had been ambushed by the Taliban. Four died immediately. The remaining four radioed that the Taliban were on top of them, with only moments left. They were too close for laser-guided munitions and requested that an aircraft quickly dive, strafe nearby, and in the chaos created, they’d extract themselves.

The male pilots requested permission. The young female pilot, thinking there wasn’t time to wait, dove without seeking approval, strafing three times from 20,000 to 3,000 feet at night.

In the ensuing havoc her strafing caused, her fellow warriors picked up their dead comrades and came home. They almost certainly would not have survived if she hadn’t been there.

The military and advancement within it must be open to — and welcoming of — the best from every demographic. We are a better force when that is the case. And we owe the very best to the nation, and to our service members on the front line.

Joe Sestak is a former Navy vice admiral, a former U.S. representative for Pennsylvania’s 7th Congressional District on the House Armed Services Committee, and director for defense policy of the National Security Council staff.