THE BELL CURVE:

Last week, in response to my July 4 column (“Let’s take back our country”), I received a letter at home taking issue mostly with things I didn’t write. But it also included a challenge that relates to the upcoming political campaign, so I’d like to address it here.

The letter read in part: “Couldn’t you have dedicated an inch of copy to at least praise those poor young men and women in uniform who are making the ultimate sacrifice for their country right now? Pro or con, these young adults need our support You really should have shown some compassion toward these brave kids. Doesn’t this transcend the current politics surrounding this war, which I, too, abhor?”

Then the challenge: “So what is it, Joe? Do you love your countrymen or do you hate them the same way in which you appear to so often scorn your country?

“Why don’t you consider setting the record straight in an upcoming column if you can muster up the courage?”

Normally, I would dismiss this quantum leap into such loaded words as “hate, scorn, muster up the courage” as nonsense that shouldn’t be dignified with a response. Challenging my courage, maybe, which can get a little shaky, but not my love of country.

But we have an election campaign ahead of us in which we’re going to see this tactic of avoiding issues by questioning patriotism in frequent use — sometimes with honestly held motives. So it needs to be surfaced and seen for what it is.

It was used with telling effect four years ago on John Kerry, who was a legitimate hero on two counts. He enlisted in a war in which he served with distinction, then followed the same desire to serve his country by coming home to join other veterans in trying to get their comrades home. These were both highly principled acts for which Kerry was maligned by enormous amounts of right-wing money, spent in poisoning his public image. His response was unfortunately muted, which quite possibly cost him the presidency.

Honest criticism of our country is one of the pillars of our democracy. It sets us apart from authoritarian societies where such criticism is punished. When that sort of authoritarianism creeps into our system it needs to be recognized and reversed — and mostly has been.

Examples would include Franklin Roosevelt’s attempt to pack the Supreme Court, Richard Nixon’s effort to use the Internal Revenue Service and the FBI against his enemies, and George W. Bush’s secret endorsement of torture. All were exposed and negated by highly vocal public opposition.

But when the criticism involves an undeclared war, the rules seem to change. Criticism of our government can then be used as pro forma evidence of “hating our countrymen in uniform.” By this line of reasoning, the opposite must also be true.

Thus supporting the actions of our government — no matter how wrong-headed we believe them to be — means supporting our troops. So if current polls are to be believed, our troops would presently be getting support from about 40% of the country, which is, of course, nonsense.

Our troops get 100% of our support; the 40% — or whatever that number is today — represents the level to which support has fallen for the government that got us into this fix.

As for failing to show compassion for our soldiers in the field, what I’m accused of here is sin by omission — also a familiar device used by public officials who want to get the focus off their bad decisions.

I ache for the men and women who have been used to near exhaustion to fight an unpopular war. But that isn’t what I was writing about in my July 4 column.

I don‘t “scorn” my country ever. I scorn the people who got our troops into a war in which we were not threatened and on false evidence. In my view, the greatest support that can be offered to the men and women fighting this conflict is to get them the hell out of Iraq.

Which brings up a blog comment about this same column from someone identified as “Aquinas,” who wrote: “Sorry, Joe, some of us did learn something from Vietnam. We learned not to cut and run.”

“Cut and Run” can be found in all military tactical books. It just has a different name. It’s called “retreat” — or sometimes “withdrawal” — and it has an honored place in military strategy. It is ordered when the military situation is not tenable, and we would stand to lose much more than we would gain by not “cutting and running.” Or “withdrawing.”

We finally retreated out of Vietnam, the civil war there ended shortly afterward, with our side losing to an opponent who is now a trading partner of the United States.

And we are left with 58,000 Americans killed in action and a book written by then-Secretary of War Robert McNamara in which he says: “We were wrong, terribly wrong. We owe it to future generations to explain why.”

And you know what, Bob? They ain’t listening.

JOSEPH N. BELL lives in Newport Beach. His column runs Thursdays.