The Pulse: Symbols and judgment at West Point

John Carlos knows a thing or two about causing a stir by raising a clenched fist. He and fellow Olympic medalist Tommie Smith spurred a national debate in 1968 by giving what was widely interpreted as a black power salute after they won bronze and gold in the 200-meter race in Mexico City.

At his website, www.JohnCarlos68.com, he says the symbol was misunderstood:

"Sadly, many people misinterpreted our silent protest as a protest for 'Black Power,' rather than a protest for human rights for all people throughout the world. For a few seconds, Tommie, Peter [Norman, the silver medalist], and I stood side by side not as an American, Australian, black nor white athlete, but as human beings united in one cause."

Forty-eight years later, the debate continues. Sixteen cadets at the U.S. Military Academy were just the focus of an inquiry after posing Carlos-style for an "Old Corps" picture, in which seniors imitate early 19th-century cadets. Some assumed the salute was intended to show sympathy with Black Lives Matter. The question for West Point was whether their conduct violated a Defense Department directive prohibiting partisan political activity.

Carlos has been following the controversy. When I spoke to him he noted the universality today of what was so controversial a half-century ago, and opined that the cadets were singled out for criticism due to race.

"Everyone shows celebration by thrusting a fist to the sky," he told me. "When the guys win the bike thing in France, as soon as they come across the tape the first thing they do is thrust their fist to the sky. There's nothing ever said about that.

"But when Beyoncé gets up and she represents our culture and our history then it's a negative. These young, individual cadets step up and do it, it's a negative. Everything the black people do to exemplify pride and power and unity within themselves, it always turns out to be a negative. And this needs to stop."

An investigation determined that the pose wasn't preplanned to make a political statement.

According to a letter to the Corp of Cadets from Superintendent Lt. Gen. Robert Caslen, the inquiry determined that the photo "was intended to demonstrate their pride in graduating from one of the most challenging undergraduate experiences in the country."

Like Carlos, Caslen also noted the commonality of clenched fists being raised in nonpartisan circumstances, including to "represent support for a team, or pride in serving in the Army or the nation."

Caslen said he raised his fist last December, along with hundreds of staff and graduates, in a pep-rally video supporting his team in the Army-Navy game.

"The time, place, and manner of a symbol can also hold significant meaning and influence perception," he wrote.

Still, Caslen said the women "demonstrated a lack of awareness in how symbols and gestures can cause division" and will receive counseling prior to their graduation Saturday. He was right to mete out what was essentially double-secret probation for the behavior while not excusing it entirely. For me, it all comes down to the uniform.

My father, who served in the Korean conflict, speaks fondly of military service as the great equalizer. Regardless of one's race or station in life, all were reduced to the same initial status after a haircut and when dressed in fatigues. For those who wear it, the uniform itself becomes a symbol of unity, a common denominator. For the rest of us, that uniform is something to be shown respect and reverence in the same way we regard police, firefighters, EMTs, and others who serve the public.

But public trust is diminished anytime someone who wears the uniform acts in a way that calls into question his or her impartiality. That's what the cadets risked. That the public would judge them not as dispassionate defenders of peace and freedom for all Americans but as partisans with a stake in the outcome of contemporary political debate.

Context matters. This wasn't the end of the Tour de France or an Army pep rally. This was a gathering of African American females; of course their salute would be seen in a certain way, just as a group of white graduates of a police academy with "Make America Great Again" hats would be. In that uniform, any uniform, they are not black or white, male or female. They are all of us, at once.

My view was confirmed when Carlos, having defended the commonality of the fist, acknowledged the racial implications.

"For all of those young ladies to collectively come together and make a bond, a unification, and say, 'We will accomplish this deed,' by them putting their fists together, not all of them did it, but some of them thought it was necessary to put their fists together to show black pride, black unity.

"It wasn't antimilitary, anti-anything," he said. "And those naysayers that want to jump up and down yippee-kayay about them putting their black fists up, well, they should be concerned about the issue that black people had to deal with over the years within the military."

At least we can agree on the lack of any real punishment. Some voices in the blogosphere demanded that they not be permitted to graduate. That, too, would have been wrong. Four years of servitude to one's country (with a commitment to more) in one of the most rigorous programs in the nation should not be erased by a few seconds of poor judgment. Congratulations are still in order.

Michael Smerconish can be heard from 9 a.m. to noon on SiriusXM's POTUS Channel 124 and seen hosting "Smerconish" at 9 a.m. Saturdays on CNN.