#58: The Iraq War

Iraq.
That's one of the most...involving words in regular use right now. It makes everybody mad for different reasons! At least, it makes me mad!

I'm hearing two different stories about Iraq. One is the one that the media is reporting: it's a disaster, people are dying every day, the Iraq natives are restless and resent America's presence. The other version is the one I'm hearing from my *ahem* "connections" in the military, i.e., my Dad: while it's obvious that mistakes have been made in Iraq, it's going well: we are winning and America's military helping the citizens of Iraq. Not only that, but Iraqis are glad of it, but are standing right beside American troops in fighting terrorists. In fact, these Iraqi soldiers are being killed by car bombs, too.

Just since I've written that post, I had an experience that changed the way I look at war. I was talking to one of my co-workers, and the topic of the Iraq war came up. I, in my ever know-it-all way, said, "Things aren't going nearly as bad as the media is saying. I've heard first-hand accounts." (which, now that I think about correct verbiage and such, I realize is not true). But she caught me off guard. "I have a friend in Iraq." And suddenly I realized I wasn't much of an authority on how things are in Iraq; all I knew was what I'd heard from other people. Not that that's a bad thing, but it just drove home to me how little I know about the war. So anyway, she continued: "I just don't like it when people have to die."

"Well, dying is part of life," I said.

"I know, but I don't like it when people have their lives cut short unnecessarily. My friend has almost died four times. It's dangerous over there."

You need to realize that she is really missing and worried about her friend. She wasn't spouting something she'd heard on the news, she was sharing her convictions.

I thought for a while. How do you explain that freedom is worth the risk? "I know you've heard this a million times," I said, "but freedom isn't free. Remember September 11?"

"Yes, I do, but if we beat these terrorists, it's just gonna make them madder, isn't it? They're not going to stop no matter how many people are in their way. What's going to stop them from attacking us now?" I would have liked to say that U.S. intelligence has nipped lots of terrorist attacks in the bud, but if you think about it, it would have been irrelevant.

"OK," I said. "If terrorists can destroy our infrastructure, our government, then we will be much, much more vulnerable to them, won't we? It goes the same way for us: if we can destroy the terrorist's infrastructure, they will be much more vulnerable and much weaker."
She agreed with me. "I know," she said. "I just want my friend to come home."

That was when our conversation ended. I wish I could have said this. "Do you see what these terrorist want to do? They want to force us to adopt their religion, and they want to kill anyone---absolutely anyone, man, woman, child---who gets in their way. Terror and fear are two of their greatest weapons; they want you to think that the grief and worry is too much a price to pay for freedom from them. They hate us, they want to make us their slaves. They want to treat you the way they treat woman in their country.
"I can't feel your worry for your friend, but I know it's not at all pleasant. Your friend is one of the many who have stood up and bet their lives that these terrorists can be stopped. He knows that he could die, but he's betting that even if he did die, there's hope for us. He's betting that it's better to die in Iraq than to even risk having our country overtaken by these Muslim terrorists."

After that, I don't really know what else to say.