“They don’t know why they are in Iraq; they “do their job” as narrowly defined, which often means doing it blindly, senselessly—shooting at a frightened driver who runs through a checkpoint, for instance.” [New Yorker, November 19, 2007, p. 104 in an article discussing the movie “Redacted” on The Current Cinema by David Denby which begins on p. 103. I know this is more of a citation than you need, but I am a librarian . . .]
This morning I was finishing the New Yorker that came yesterday instead of starting on my planned productive tasks of the day.
I had a strange experience reading this: for a fraction of a moment, when reading
“. . . why they are in Iraq:” I felt that we were NOT in Iraq, that the decision was still to be made. I felt a lifting, a bliss, surely my country wouldn’t go so wrong. It lasted less than a minute, I am sure, but it was a very powerful feeling and I certainly missed it when I had to relinquish it.
And now we have been in Iraq on murky excuses for years and no resolution in sight. I am grateful every day that my sons are too old, but two of my grandsons are 19 and 21 and thus just ripe if the draft were reinstated. I have the greatest love and pity for those psrents whose sons have died or been maimed in this conflict. I wish for the restoration of the moral footing of my country every day.
No comments:
Post a Comment