Don’t read this poorly written and illustrated revisionism. Read the source material!

I hope my one-star review has caught your attention. This Memorial Day, I’m committing to writing a short lesson on identifying revisionist narratives in state-sponsored literature. Smedley, written and illustrated by Jeff McComsey for Dead Reckoning (an imprint of the Naval Institute Press), is a prime example, published nearly a century after the events it depicts. It purports to retell some of the major moments of General Smedley Butler’s life: his participation in the U.S. wars of imperialism in China, Panama, Cuba, and Haiti, and his speech near the steps of the U.S. Capitol during the Bonus Army march.

First, I recommend finding a copy of Butler’s writings, to include both War Is a Racket and his essay published in the Socialist journal Common Sense (Vol. 4, No. 11 (November, 1935)). I will be pulling quotes directly from a first edition copy of Racket that I own.

Smedley follows General Butler as he recounts a series of war stories to fellow veterans participating in the Bonus March on D.C. in 1932. It’s a fairly rinse-and-repeat process: a veteran prompts a memory, Butler responds with a sanitized account (“I was just following orders”), and everyone shares a laugh to gloss over the consequences.

Let’s begin with the book’s visual language. The color scheme and art style are clear attempts at establishing connective tissue to The Sheriff of Babylon (Vertigo) and some Dark Horse titles, graphic novels which explore moral decay and, more often than not, dispel common war myths and tropes. However, Smedley’s artwork trades gritty realism for caricature, depicting all of its characters (including Butler himself) in rather poor taste. Every enemy the Marines encounter and kill, from Chinese Boxers to Haitian Rebels, is so poorly drawn that only their most racist features (slanted eyes and missing teeth, comically large lips you won’t find on any other characters) stand out.

Now, let’s get to the meat of this novel’s narrative, where Smedley’s story is cannibalized, cherry-picked, and misrepresented to serve the interests of today’s U.S. Navy.

Butler’s words are clear. From his essay in Common Sense:

It may seem odd for me, a military man to adopt such a comparison. Truthfulness compels me to. I spent 33 years and 4 months In active service as a member of our country's most agile military force -- the Marine Corps. I served in all commissioned ranks from a second lieutenant to Major-General. And during that period I spent most of my time being a high-class muscle man for Big Business, for Wall Street and for the bankers. In short, I was a racketeer for capitalism.

I suspected I was just part of a racket at the time. Now I am sure of it. Like all members of the profession I never had an original thought until I left the service. My mental faculties remained in suspended animation while I obeyed the orders of the higher-ups. This is typical of everyone in the military service.

Thus I, helped make Mexico and especially Tampico safe for American oil interests in 1914. I helped make Haiti and Cuba a decent place for the National City Bank boys to collect revenues in. I helped in the raping of half a dozen Central American republics for the benefit of Wall Street. The record of racketeering is long. I helped purify Nicaragua for the international banking house of Brown Brothers 1909-12. I brought light to the Dominican Republic for American sugar interests in 1916. I helped make Honduras "right" for American fruit companies in 1903. In China in 1927 I helped see to it that Standard Oil went its way unmolested.

Straightforward enough. Now, contrast that with Smedley, where the General’s issue is not with his role in spreading U.S. imperialism, but merely that others profited from it. The graphic novel attempts to separate U.S. Policy (which established its influence through economic means backed by force) from an abstract, untouchable “elite.” General Butler’s point was that they were one and the same.

We also see Butler’s actual words twisted to suit this purpose. From War Is a Racket:

So, by developing the Napoleonic system—the medal business—the government learned it could get soldiers for less money, because the boys liked to be decorated. Until the Civil War there were no medals. Then the Congressional Medal of Honor was handed out. It made enlistments easier. After the Civil War no new medals were issued until the Spanish-American War.

Compare this to Smedley, in which this becomes a moment of chest-puffing:

You got a problem with battle decorations, General?
You think they just give them out?
Not at all. I have no doubt you and these boys earned every damn one. I’m very fond of medals. In fact, I’ll tell you what I love best about medals. They only cost a cent or two to make, but J.P. Morgan couldn’t buy one with all the money in Christendom. Medal number two. Haiti.

There is no more critique.

What Smedley lacks is any of the nuance that informed the General’s thoughts in his retirement. It completely omits Smedley’s anti-war stance, which was so strong that the man cautioned against entering WWII. In the place of nuance, it introduces caricature and flattened identity. Instead of depicting a man literally and figuratively marked by empire (he had a globe-and-anchor tattoo from neck to navel) who later rejected it, we get a caricature: gloomy eyes and masculine posturing.

Given the author’s position as editor in chief at The New York Times and the fact that the Navy commissioned this work, its agenda is plain as day.

Butler’s own words cut deeper and cleaner than this cartoonish attempt at reclaiming Butler’s image for a modern military. You’re better served reading them than wasting time on Smedley.