Reflections on January 27, 2009

Today, Tuesday January 27, 2009, I have a number of disjointed thoughts jostling for a position of prominence within my head. I suppose I will just unburden myself of them all, which will give the following narrative no real direction, but at the very least it will clear my mind, and maybe, just maybe, educate a few of the people who read it – who knows?
The first issue is a very simplistic one, but one that I feel has great worth. I was out hiking yesterday with my dog, Khayyam, along a path in the deeper bush. The trail was not a marked trail, but a roughly hewn trail, made for some winter snowshoeing by my girlfriend’s aunt. I lacked the proper foot gear, but that was of little concern as many previous trips into the brush by the same aunt had packed the snow down and made the trail walk able. Several times I did break through, and sank up to my hip, but this was rare, which made the walk in the pristine Northern woodland very pleasant indeed. As the trail meandered through the brush, I was struck once again by the sheer beauty of the place that I have begun to think of as home. The only sound to be heard was the occasional call of a grey jay, the crunch of snow under my boots, and the pitter-patter of Khayyam’s feet a he raced on ahead. The tranquility was settling for the nerves.
After a while the trail descended a steep wooded slope, and jettisoned my sliding body out into a vast open space, know locally as the “Pit”. It was owned by Nicky’s late grandfather, and used by his construction business as a sand and gravel pit. Following his death, the pit, quite naturally, ceased to be used, making it a wide open space to be enjoyed for purely recreational purposes. Often times, Nicky, Khayyam and I will ski through the pit, as will Nicky’s aunt, who snowshoes across it. The sun was beginning to settle in the West. I rounded the last promontory between the dying sun and myself. Khay, as usual, was racing on ahead, not affected as I was by the oft crumbling snow. The sky was a sight to be seen. Near the horizon, barely glimpsed between snow covered boles and boughs, it was a deep pinkish hue, subtle, not at all over powering, muted as most light tends to be in a winters twilight. This rosy glow was to be seen only through the trees that covered the ridge line ahead, making them stand out tall and bold by contrast. As the sky climbed, the color altered, becoming less flushed, but not less intense. The pink changed slowly, deepening into a type of mauve, and beyond that, into a darker violet, which in turn, smeared as it was by clouds, became a slate blue; a twilit sky that truly encompassed the beauty, and cold stark austerity of winter. Below the shifting clouds and colours the earth sat, in mute silence, as if in waiting. There were no signs of mammal life to be seen, outside of the rough ski/snowshoe track that had been carved out. The snow, deep and unsullied, was almost aglow under the hard sky. It was not besmirched with animal tracks, nor human, as if it were a virgin canvas waiting for the right artist to come along and discover it. It was already a masterpiece. A light breeze blew, carrying with it a note of bitter cold. A scene frozen in time, for its perfection was staggering.
And I thought to myself, “I need to get a picture of this”, knowing full well that if I hurried on ahead and grabbed the camera, then raced back, I would be far to late to capture the essence of the scene I had just been lucky enough to witness; so I stayed, and I watched the sun a while longer until it had all but disappeared. As I started walking again, I began to think about tomorrow, and how it would be a good idea to return to this very spot, at this very time, in order to capture the sight on film, but then a new, darker thought interposed – even if the spectacle were as grand tomorrow, it would not be this moment. The sunset I had just been lucky enough to witness would never again be repeated, it was a one time event within my life; which led me to thinking that as such, every sunset, sunrise, moonrise, star fall, and so forth, that I was lucky enough to witness was like a sacred gift, beautiful to behold, meant to be cherished in the memory of the self. Although the scene may never be repeated, it was witnessed, and enjoyed, and catalogued in my mind, perhaps to be recalled years from now, perhaps not. Every sunset differs, and I sadly forget many, but those few that strike me deeply I do remember; despite the melancholy that may arise at such a thought, as I listen to Iron and Wine’s “Sunsets Soon Forgotten”, this resurrection of the memory of yesterdays gift, along with many other overlooked moments, I feel a sense of calm understanding, as though even contemplating the moment, and successfully resurrecting it, is enough. The gift has been appreciated, as were the so many before it, and that is all that needs to be said.
Another thought on my mind is the curious case of Omar Khadr, the Canadian (no longer) child who has been accused of war crimes, and been left to rot in Guantanamo Bay for seven years without a trial. He has been accused of throwing a grenade in Afghanistan that killed one American soldier in the early days of the War on Terror. This gives me many diverse feelings. The first of which is this: if he indeed did throw the grenade, he was a volunteer soldier fighting against soldiers. One of them died, which is what happens in war between armies. I do not blame him for fighting, just as many Canadians are not blamed for volunteering to do battle in other wars, of which I have many examples – individual Canadian volunteers fought in the Boer War, the Spanish Civil war, and Vietnam. Many of these people would have killed soldiers on the opposite side of the conflict, and more, perhaps even civilians. Yet, we do not hold them accountable for the bloodshed, we instead honour them. Young Khadr saw a war developing to which he was opposed, and he chose to battle against it, in doing so, inflicting a casualty to the opposing army. A war crime; if he indeed threw the grenade (without a trial, it is impossible to say). Interesting that the Americans can use the term “War Criminal” so freely, and yet they have refused to sign on for the international court, which would hold their troops, and the actions taken by them, accountable to the rest of the planet, and heaven forefend, accountable to the civilians they slaughter.
Khadr can be held for over 7 years for killing one soldier, but a US missile strike in central Baghdad, which hit a crowded restaurant (on the pretext that Saddam Hussein may have been eating there) killing dozens (a true story during the famed “Shock and Awe” campaign) of civilians is acceptable, even forgiven by the Western media. The man who ordered the strike, George W. Bush, not even batting a eyelid at the death and havoc he unleashed on an innocent population, also forgiven, even given the title of a “war time president”.
It is of course easy to condemn a man like Bush, however, and the examples run ever deeper. Bill Clinton, who is often times regarded as perhaps the greatest of American Presidents, could, and should be considered a “war criminal”, based on the precedent set by Khadr. In 1998 Mr. Clinton fired Tomahawk missiles into the Sudanese capital of Khartoum, obliterating the Ali Shifa pharmaceutical plant. He had received some intelligence that the plant was in fact a front for the making of chemical weapons, and so had made the executive decision to blow it up. Except that it was not a chemical weapons plant, it was indeed a pharmaceutical plant. In the initial blast, close to 1,000 innocent civilians were killed, snuffed out, just like that, for the crime of showing up to work that day. The fallout was worse. Tens of thousands of Sudanese people, too poor to buy Western pharmaceuticals, depended upon the generic drugs made at Ali Shifa for survival. They died, many in excruciating pain, from terrible, curable, diseases. I should point out that “tens of thousands” is a conservative estimate. Bill Clinton, this American hero (whose wife, interestingly, is now the Secretary of State), killed them, according to any reasonable or intelligent argument on the issue. There was never a word spoken against him, or even breathed, about his potential status as a war criminal for the act of carnage. (The American government did not even offer to supply new medicines to replace the ones they themselves destroyed).
And yet Omar Khadr is a War Criminal for throwing a grenade that killed one soldier.
Last but not least, is the new president, Barak Obama. He is a very gifted speaker, has tremendous charisma, and a friendly, down to earth disposition. People adore him, giving him massive celebrity status, which is rare for a politician. I do not trust him, because he has yet to do anything that should be worthy of trust. On his first few days of office, he did several monumental things: 1) he issued and edict to close Guantanamo Bay prison, 2) Banned the use of torture by the USA, and 3) stated that he was going to withdraw from Iraq. All of these things is a worthy goal, and should be applauded, but I do not – why is that you may be asking?
Well, it is simple. He didn’t actually DO anything. He attacked mere symbols, he did not change any policy. He closed Gitmo, yes, but what has he done with the prisoners? Have they been released? No, they are still going to be held, and in 120 days we will find out where. Guantanamo was a very unpopular aspect to the war on terror, an anti-American staging point, so he closed it, but as far as the prisoners are concerned, nothing has altered, they will simply get a new address. The symbol to rally around will be gone, nothing more.
He banned the use of torture, which should be a great day, but in doing so he failed to clearly outline or state what exactly constitutes “torture”, leaving plenty of wriggle room, when talking about sensory depravation, and so forth. Let us not forget that the last administration also claimed to make no use of torture – it was all rhetoric, without there ever being a clear definition of what torture actually was. Water boarding, for example, was given the green light, as it was not considered to be torture. What inventive new treatments will be adopted that will skirt this grand, but sadly vague, declaration? Further more, Americans will not be engaged in the use of torture, but what of their allies? In the past, American regimes would not flirt as closely with torture as did the Bush administration, but they would eagerly send human beings into the care of allies who were not so magnanimous, allowing them to do the dirty work for them. Obama fails to make mention of this either, he simply banned torture (whatever that entails) from American use. Once again, the symbol is removed, but not the reality.
Barak will remove America post haste from the Iraq debacle, the very unpopular symbol of the War on Terror. Does this then mean that the shadow war will be over, and American corporate interests in the Middle East will be curbed? It certainly does not. Iraq was the lightning rod for opposition to the war, unpopular even with patriotic Yankees searching for revenge following 9/11, and so it is prudent to make that go away. The actual war, however, will simply be changing theatres. The new president has already stated that he will withdraw from Iraq, but will reinvest his troops into Afghanistan. Again, nothing has changed, the war machine will still roll on, only in a different land (well to be fair to Afghans, they are currently at war, but against a coalition, including a smattering of Americans, but soon enough, they will be again faced with all the whole might of the Land of the Free). The corporate interests of the war machine are still going to be served, and this new, smiling, charming Chief of Staff will still be bent on destroying Muslim men and women, as was his predecessor. Only the public perception of Afghanistan differs from Iraq. In Afghanistan Obama will strive hard not appear to be the aggressor, he will again be able to don the cloak of liberator, a cloak that never fit well for the lowlands of Mesopotamia, but for whatever reasons seems to fit many leaders just fine for the heights of Ghor.
Do not trust this smiling charlatan, until he proves worthy of trust. Destroying a few symbolic rallying points that helped to foment anti-American sentiment is a good start, but how about the President does something real and tangible before we christen this man the messiah?