ric Muller wrote Free to Die for Their Country long before the events of September 11. But the story he tells resonates today in ways he could not have foreseen. Some of us will read it now as a cautionary tale: What happens when a nation in the grips of war isolates a group of people — in this case, people of Japanese descent — and, in the name of national security, affords them less than full protection under the law?

Like many other Japanese Americans confined in relocation camps during the war, Daniel Inouye did not resist the draft. He volunteered to serve, and lost an arm during combat in Europe. We might understand, I suppose, if Inouye, now a U.S. senator from Hawaii, were to object to Muller's book, which is about Japanese American draft resisters during World War II. Wouldn't Muller's book seem to dishonor Inouye's sacrifice, and dishonor the nation, as well?

No, not according to Inouye. In the foreword to Muller's book, Inouye remembers the indignity of being regarded as "the enemy in the midst of America." He writes of the resisters, "I am glad that there were some who had the courage to express some of the feelings that we who volunteered harbored deep in our souls."

For veterans like Daniel Inouye, or scholars like Eric Muller, there is no dishonor in a search for the truth.