University of Georgia

Terry College of Business

About 20 years ago, the United States Department of Defense (DOD) conducted routine studies designed to project demographics for future recruitment. The DOD discovered that the armed forces could not continue to adequately defend the United States unless they began in earnest to recruit people of color and women. White men, it seemed, were not expected to enlist in large enough numbers to fill the ranks. So, for two decades increasing numbers of women have been exercising their considerable talents in just about every sector of military life. But it hasn’t always been smooth sailing.

Military women are battling not only the numbers - they still represent only 13 percent of the armed forces - but also a deep-seated tradition of male dominance. Not surprising, then, are reported incidents ranging from sexual harassment to rape that have occurred on several military bases, in a number of the military academics, and at the Tailhook Association Convention of Navy and Marine Aviators in 1991.

A close look at one of these scandals sheds light on how the military culture can fail to understand the impact of sexual harassment, and thus fail also to recognize being subject to harassment as a mitigating factor in cases where rules have been broken. The scandal involves the tangled fates of tow midshipmen, both of them highly respected by their peers, at the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis.

In the spring of 1996, Midshipman First-Class Naomi Jackson was suspended for breaking the academy’s honor concept by lying to her roommate. The honor concept of the United States naval Academy is fairly straightforward. It begins with the statement, "Midshipmen are persons of integrity: They stand for that which is right," and then goes on to forbid lying, cheating, and stealing.

Jackson’s roommate and superior, Maureen McFarland, testified at a hearing that Jackson told her she had "forgotten" about a mandatory military dinner. However, McFarland said that she’d overhear Jackson tell someone earlier that day that she was planning to attend the dinner. Although the hearing determined that Jackson certainly had violated the honor concept, those who knew her expected her punishment to be light. According to Karen Meyers, the academy’s media relations director, in all cases involving an abuse of regulations, the academy will take into account mitigating factors and look at the defendant’s record. "Each case is judged individually" says Meyers.

In her case, Jackson, who was about to graduate, was suspended almost immediately and threatened with "separation" (expulsion). Along with derailing her career, separation would have meant that Jackson and her family would be required to pay back the $200,000 the government had spent on her education.

Many people who knew Jackson were shocked at what they perceived to be such a harsh punishment. Jackson, a track star and champion javelin thrower, had never been in trouble before in her four years at the academy.

Meanwhile, a classmate of Jackson’s Midshipman First-Class Scott T. Ward, a wrestler, triathlete, commander of half the midshipmen, and candidate for the elite Navy SEALs, also committed acts that were in violation of academy regulations. He was charged with potentially criminal violations - the sexual assault of four female colleagues. One of the four women he was accused of assaulting was Jackson.

After the women filed charges, an "Article 32" inquiry was held to determine if the charges warranted a court-martial. Presiding investigative officer Lieutenant Commander L. Lynn Jowers determined that there was sufficient evidence of criminal behavior for a court-martial. At that point, Ward’s lawyer, William Cummings, told the Washington Post that "a lot of people" in the academy thought Ward was a "super guy" and hoped his career had not been "sidetracked, not derailed."

Jackson had been the first to bring charges against Ward. She claimed that he returned to the residential hall after a night of drinking, entered her room (at the time, midshipmen were not allowed to lock their bedroom doors), climbed into her bed, and then tried to have sex with her.

Three other female midshipmen then came forward with similar stories. In the process of defending his client, Cummings argued that Ward had had sexual relationships with two of his accusers in the past, and that there was not enough evidence of forcible sexual assault to warrant a charge of criminal wrongdoing.

While, from a legal standpoint, admitting to prior sexual relations with his accusers may have mitigated the sexual misconduct charges, it left Ward open to the charge that he had violated in pursuit of his sexual exploits. Ward was a senior and a high-ranking member of his class. Since one of the women he allegedly had sex with was a freshman, known in academy jargon as a "plebe," he was in violation of regulation that prohibit upperclassmen from "fraternizing" with plebes. Doing so is a transgression that can result in expulsion. The fact that all of the sexual encounters took place in Bancroft Hall the huge dormitory that houses midshippen - was yet another violation, since sex is not allowed in dormitories.

By all accounts, Ward was talented, gregarious, and popular. Jackson’s supporters contend that a good ol’ boys network sprang into action in Ward’s defense. People spread rumors that the youngest of his accusers had brought charges as a way of avoiding punishment herself for fraternization. One woman came forward to say she had overheard Jackson and her roommate plotting to ruin Ward’s career. Neither Jackson nor her roommate was called to refuse that allegation, nor was it noted that, according to several midshipmen, the woman was the girlfriend of one of Ward’s friends.

Ellen Gallagher, whose family served as Jackson’s local "sponsor" providing a home away from home for an academy student - says that Jackson suffered physical abuse as well. "Naomi was punched in the ribs in the hallway, kicked on the stairs by Ward’s roommate, and ostracized by many of her closest friends," says Gallaher.

When Jackson appeared at Ward’s Article 32 hearing, she found the experience traumatizing. "The Navy lawyer didn’t prepare the witnesses for what would be involved," says Ellen Gallagher. What was involved included a barrage of questions attacking the woman’s credibility. The day Jackson testified happened to be the same day of the mandatory military dinner that she then failed to attend.

Former midshipman Kim McGreevy, a friend of Jackson’s, says that the real reason Jackson missed the dinner was that she was upset by her experience at the hearing.

But Jackson didn’t tell that to her roommate. McGreevy believes it was because she was unwilling to violate another academy rule: not to talk to anyone about internal proceedings. Whether telling her roommate that the hearing was upsetting amounted to divulging the contents of internal proceedings is unclear: "They are vague about what you are allowed to discuss and what you’re not allowed to discuss," says McGreevy. "You’re just supposed to say, ‘I missed the dinner. No excuses.’" Instead of saying that, Jackson lied, saying she had forgotten about the dinner. With that transgression, she found herself subject to expulsion.

At the same time, the academy began a review of Ward’s behavior and eventually decided that there was enough evidence of wrongdoing for him to be "separated" from the academy. At press time he was on leave, pending a decision on his separation by the Secretary of the Navy.

While the cases of both Jackson and Ward were dealt with expeditiously, many people at the academy, as well as several legislators who became involved in the case, thought that Jackson had been treated unfairly. Her local sponsor, Jack Gallagher, a prominent Washington, D.C. attorney, was so incensed at the punishment, he offered to defend her. Jackson’s congressional representative, Sue Kelly (R.-N.Y.): her U.S. senator, Alfonse D’Amato (R.-N.Y.); and Andrew O’Rourke, the county executive from her home in Westchester County, all wrote to the Navy expressing their fears that Jackson wasn’t getting fair treatment.

One letter from a government official clarified an unspoken concern of many of her supporters: "Jackson displayed a strong conviction toward the Honor Code when she apparently refused to discuss her testimony against a classmate...Moreover, the judgment to prohibit Ms. Jackson from graduating with her class has been characterized as possible retributions for her complaint against a fellow midshipman."

Around the same time that the campaign in support of Jackson was heating up, the naval academy relented. It agreed to let her spend the summer in an "honors remediation program," during which she was required to produce papers relating to her offense. By the middle of August 1996, when deemed suitable repentant, Jackson was finally allowed to graduate.

At the heart of the concern expressed by Jackson’s supporters is the fear that the armed forces in general have failed to successfully assimilate women into their culture - and that the honor concept has evident shortcomings when it comes to the dynamics of sexual harassment. Jackson admitted to lying and so she was suspended. Clear enough. What’s less clear is how the honor concept ought to be applied in such cases.

Carol Burke, a former English professor at Annapolis, is writing a book on military culture and is the author of an essay, "Pernicious Cohesion," that addresses the subject of sexism at the Naval Academy. In Burke’s view, the honor concept may not be capable of dealing with such issues. "The military has been an institution that inscribes manhood on its members," she says. "The whole history of what describes itself as honor codes comes from a male intellectual tradition, a knightly tradition. That creates a problem when women enter the institution. These ritual practices may be gratuitous in today’s military. Of course, women are also capable of unethical acts. There is nothing essenntialist about this. The problem comes from the training and the codes."

Naomi Jackson is serving in the Navy’s Intelligence Service in Virginia. Because of the sensitive nature of her work, she was not able to speak to Ms. However, her friend Kim McGreevy, who left the academy after her sophomore year, did talk with us. McGreevy, a track star with a 3.02 average, had reported to her superiors that a male classmate had assaulted a high school girl who was visiting the academy as part of a summer program. The ostracism and harassment McGreevy suffered after turning him in was a major factor in her decision to quit the academy. "I knew this was going to ruin me," she says. "He was a popular midshipman. Half the guys hated me."

In the end, McGreevy lost faith in the Navy. "The Navy says they want women," she says, "but they don’t." When it comes to the lying component of the honor concept, McGreevy believes "The Navy doesn’t recognize shades of gray. Women are more apt to look at the whole situation and see the extenuating circumstances more clearly."

Paul Roush, a professor in the academy’s leadership, ethics, and law department, says he would "rather not have" an honor concept, precisely because "the potential for its being applied arbitrarily is always there." In a study the academy was conducting at press time, Roush says that preliminary data showed that women scored higher on what is known as "moral reasoning - the ability to look at a situation and take into account the reason for it."

According to Cynthia Enloe, author of The Morning After: Sexual Politics at the End of the Cold War, the proscription against lying "does not acknowledge the power relationships in truth-telling and lying, especially when they involve the power men have over women, even women who are their peers. Military authorities have an astounding lack of curiosity about the political dynamics of truth-telling in the area of sexual harassment. They are not willing to do more than just keep repeating the honor code rather than being analytically sophisticated about sexual harassment."

Yet it would be unfair to charge the naval academy with ignoring incidents of sexual abuse. The case of Scott Ward was ultimately addressed and dealt with. And the superintendent of the academy, Admiral C. R. Larson, appeared to be aware of a problem when he took over his command at Annapolis in the summer of 1994, just one year after the official report on Tailhook was released. In an October 1995 article in the Naval Institute magazine, Proceedings, Larson noted that the academy was engaged in a "review of the honor concept." Marine Corps Officer David Vetter, a character development officer at the academy, told Ms. that a rethinking of the honor concept requires acknowledging that "mere compliance is not enough. Part of doing right is the way we treat each other."

Figuring out how men can treat women as colleagues, not as sexual conquests or inferiors, is what the Naval Academy - and all the branches of the military - must struggle with at this juncture.

Sue Woodman is a New York City-based freelance writer.

Ms. Magazine, March/April 1997