"Run away, run away''!
For those of you who have seen the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail, the above line should evoke the memory of "brave Sir Robin," who even had a minstrel following him and singing his praises; a knight who turned out to be not so brave, and would cry "run away, run away" at any daunting challenge (A great comedy, can't recommend it highly enough, and even funnier if you have read Thomas Malory's Le Mort d'Arthur.)
But I couldn't help but think of this when reading about the sudden defections of Republican senators from the president's vision of the war in Iraq. Some of them were the loudest saber-rattlers when the war was initiated, and now, in the face of all the senseless carnage, they want to throw in the towel.
Blame the Iraqi government, blame poor leadership, blame the inability to adequately train Iraqi soldiers and recruit American ones, but whatever or whomever you, dear Senators, blame, don't blame yourselves. Never mind that Hans Blix, inspector for the U.N. said there were no serious "weapons of mass destruction," never mind that middle-east experts said that this would be folly, never mind that the Syrians said "you will be opening the gates of hell," never mind that you didn't have enough soldiers or the equipment to protect them, and never mind that none of you, not a single one, seemed to have any appreciation of the history of Iraq, the various occupations, and the results—never mind and don't blame yourselves.
And those of us who opposed this foray into another quagmire, a mere thirty years after we did exactly the same thing in Vietnam? We were unpatriotic. We were even called traitors. We were, in the words of Donald Rumsfeld, "very naive." So we packed up our humble, naive opinions, and let the "seasoned and knowledgeable" Secretary Rumsfeld run and turn this war into what can be best described as "Apocalypse Now II: Mesopotamia."
Now you want to run away? And what of the Iraqi citizens? Whose lives this war has reduced to praying for electricity in 120 degree heat, praying for water, and praying that the banging at the door is a relative, and not a kidnapper or militiaman, or the police or Iraqi forces. "Democracy is messy," but so is an insurgent war. We lose soldiers, sometimes seven to ten a day, but the Iraqis lose around sixty civilians a day, on "a 'good' day," as the journalist David Brookes chillingly noted.
I have never supported this war; anyone with even a whit of knowledge about the region knew this would be a benighted adventure. But leaving the Iraqi citizens in such dire straits is shameful; it's beyond despicable. And it will come back to haunt us. Blood on our hands.
Just like the minstrel following "brave Sir Robin" changed his tune to something not-so-flattering when Sir Robin retreated in the face of hardship, so will the world change its tune about us.
For those of you who have seen the film Monty Python and the Holy Grail, the above line should evoke the memory of "brave Sir Robin," who even had a minstrel following him and singing his praises; a knight who turned out to be not so brave, and would cry "run away, run away" at any daunting challenge (A great comedy, can't recommend it highly enough, and even funnier if you have read Thomas Malory's Le Mort d'Arthur.)
But I couldn't help but think of this when reading about the sudden defections of Republican senators from the president's vision of the war in Iraq. Some of them were the loudest saber-rattlers when the war was initiated, and now, in the face of all the senseless carnage, they want to throw in the towel.
Blame the Iraqi government, blame poor leadership, blame the inability to adequately train Iraqi soldiers and recruit American ones, but whatever or whomever you, dear Senators, blame, don't blame yourselves. Never mind that Hans Blix, inspector for the U.N. said there were no serious "weapons of mass destruction," never mind that middle-east experts said that this would be folly, never mind that the Syrians said "you will be opening the gates of hell," never mind that you didn't have enough soldiers or the equipment to protect them, and never mind that none of you, not a single one, seemed to have any appreciation of the history of Iraq, the various occupations, and the results—never mind and don't blame yourselves.
And those of us who opposed this foray into another quagmire, a mere thirty years after we did exactly the same thing in Vietnam? We were unpatriotic. We were even called traitors. We were, in the words of Donald Rumsfeld, "very naive." So we packed up our humble, naive opinions, and let the "seasoned and knowledgeable" Secretary Rumsfeld run and turn this war into what can be best described as "Apocalypse Now II: Mesopotamia."
Now you want to run away? And what of the Iraqi citizens? Whose lives this war has reduced to praying for electricity in 120 degree heat, praying for water, and praying that the banging at the door is a relative, and not a kidnapper or militiaman, or the police or Iraqi forces. "Democracy is messy," but so is an insurgent war. We lose soldiers, sometimes seven to ten a day, but the Iraqis lose around sixty civilians a day, on "a 'good' day," as the journalist David Brookes chillingly noted.
I have never supported this war; anyone with even a whit of knowledge about the region knew this would be a benighted adventure. But leaving the Iraqi citizens in such dire straits is shameful; it's beyond despicable. And it will come back to haunt us. Blood on our hands.
Just like the minstrel following "brave Sir Robin" changed his tune to something not-so-flattering when Sir Robin retreated in the face of hardship, so will the world change its tune about us.
posted by mariestaad at 1:38 PM
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