Text of Chris Hedges
Speech
Common Dreams/by the Rockford Register Star
(Illinois)
Published on Wednesday, May 21,
2003
I want to speak to you today about war and empire.
Killing, or at least the worst of it, is over in Iraq.
Although blood will continue to spill -- theirs and ours -- be
prepared for this. For we are embarking on an occupation that, if
history is any guide, will be as damaging to our souls as it will
be to our prestige, power, and security. But this will come later
as our empire expands and in all this we become pariahs, tyrants
to others weaker than ourselves. Isolation always impairs
judgment and we are very isolated now.
We have forfeited the good will, the empathy the world felt
for us after 9-11. We have folded in on ourselves, we have
severely weakened the delicate international coalitions and
alliances that are vital in maintaining and promoting peace and
we are part now of a dubious troika in the war against terror
with Vladimir Putin and Ariel Sharon, two leaders who do not
shrink in Palestine or Chechnya from carrying out acts of
gratuitous and senseless acts of violence. We have become the
company we keep.
The censure and perhaps the rage of much of the world,
certainly one-fifth of the world's population which is Muslim,
most of whom I'll remind you are not Arab, is upon us. Look today
at the 14 people killed last night in several explosions in
Casablanca. And this rage in a world where almost 50 percent of
the planet struggles on less than two dollars a day will see us
targeted. Terrorism will become a way of life, {boos begin] and
when we are attacked we will, like our allies Putin and Sharon,
lash out with greater fury. The circle of violence is a death
spiral; no one escapes. We are spinning at a speed that we may
not be able to hold. As we revel in our military prowess -- the
sophistication of our military hardware and technology, for this
is what most of the press coverage consisted of in Iraq -- we
lose sight of the fact that just because we have the capacity to
wage war it does not give us the right to wage war. This capacity
has doomed empires in the past.
"Modern western civilization may perish," the theologian
Reinhold Niebuhr warned, "because it falsely worshiped technology
as a final good."
The real injustices, the Israeli occupation of Palestinian
land, the brutal and corrupt dictatorships we fund in the Middle
East, will mean that we will not rid the extremists who hate us
with bombs. Indeed we will swell their ranks. Once you master
people by force you depend on force for control. In your
isolation you begin to make mistakes.
Fear engenders cruelty; cruelty, fear, insanity, and then
paralysis. In the center of Dante's circle the damned remained
motionless. We have blundered into a nation we know little about
and are caught between bitter rivalries and competing ethnic
groups and leaders we do not understand. We are trying to
transplant a modern system of politics invented in Europe
characterized, among other things, by the division of earth into
independent secular states based on national citizenship in a
land where the belief in a secular civil government is an alien
creed. Iraq was a cesspool for the British when they occupied it
in 1917; it will be a cesspool for us as well. The curfews, the
armed clashes with angry crowds that leave scores of Iraqi dead,
the military governor, the Christian Evangelical groups who are
being allowed to follow on the heels of our occupying troops to
try and teach Muslims about Jesus.
Hedges stops speaking because of a disturbance in the
audience. Rockford College President Paul Pribbenow takes the
microphone.
"My friends, one of the wonders of a liberal arts college is
its ability and its deeply held commitment to academic freedom
and the decision to listen to each other's opinions. (Crowd
Cheers) If you wish to protest the speaker's remarks, I ask that
you do it in silence, as some of you are doing in the back. That
is perfectly appropriate but he has the right to offer his
opinion here and we would like him to continue his remarks. (Fog
Horn Blows, some cheer).
The occupation of the oil fields, the notion of the Kurds and
the Shiites will listen to the demands of a centralized
government in Baghdad, the same Kurds and Shiites who died by the
tens of thousands in defiance of Sadaam Hussein, a man who
happily butchered all of those who challenged him, and this
ethnic rivalry has not gone away. The looting of Baghdad, or let
me say the looting of Baghdad with the exception of the oil
ministry and the interior ministry -- the only two ministries we
bothered protecting -- is self immolation.
As someone who knows Iraq, speaks Arabic, and spent seven
years in the Middle East, if the Iraqis believe rightly or
wrongly that we come only for oil and occupation, that will begin
a long bloody war of attrition; it is how they drove the British
out and remember that, when the Israelis invaded southern Lebanon
in 1982, they were greeted by the dispossessed Shiites as
liberators. But within a few months, when the Shiites saw that
the Israelis had come not as liberators but occupiers, they began
to kill them. It was Israel who created Hezbollah and was
Hezbollah that pushed Israel out of Southern Lebanon.
As William Butler Yeats wrote in "Meditations in Times Of
Civil War," "We had fed the heart on fantasies / the hearts grown
brutal from the fair."
This is a war of liberation in Iraq, but it is a war now of
liberation by Iraqis from American occupation. And if you watch
closely what is happening in Iraq, if you can see it through the
abysmal coverage, you can see it in the lashing out of the
terrorist death squads, the murder of Shiite leaders in mosques,
and the assassination of our young soldiers in the streets. It is
one that will soon be joined by Islamic radicals and we are far
less secure today than we were before we bumbled into Iraq.
We will pay for this, but what saddens me most is that those
who will by and large pay the highest price are poor kids from
Mississippi or Alabama or Texas who could not get a decent job or
health insurance and joined the army because it was all we
offered them. For war in the end is always about betrayal,
betrayal of the young by the old, of soldiers by politicians, and
of idealists by cynics. Read Antigone, when the king imposes his
will without listening to those he rules or Thucydides' history.
Read how Athens' expanding empire saw it become a tyrant abroad
and then a tyrant at home. How the tyranny the Athenian
leadership imposed on others it finally imposed on itself.
This, Thucydides wrote, is what doomed Athenian democracy;
Athens destroyed itself. For the instrument of empire is war and
war is a poison, a poison which at times we must ingest just as a
cancer patient must ingest a poison to survive. But if we do not
understand the poison of war -- if we do not understand how
deadly that poison is -- it can kill us just as surely as the
disease.
We have lost touch with the essence of war. Following our
defeat in Vietnam we became a better nation. We were humbled,
even humiliated. We asked questions about ourselves we had not
asked before.
We were forced to see ourselves as others saw us and the sight
was not always a pretty one. We were forced to confront our own
capacity for a atrocity -- for evil -- and in this we understood
not only war but more about ourselves. But that humility is
gone.
War, we have come to believe, is a spectator sport. The
military and the press -- remember in wartime the press is always
part of the problem -- have turned war into a vast video arcade
came. Its very essence -- death -- is hidden from public
view.
There was no more candor in the Persian Gulf War or the War in
Afghanistan or the War in Iraq than there was in Vietnam. But in
the age of live feeds and satellite television, the state and the
military have perfected the appearance of candor.
Because we no longer understand war, we no longer understand
that it can all go horribly wrong. We no longer understand that
war begins by calling for the annihilation of others but ends if
we do not know when to make or maintain peace with
self-annihilation. We flirt, given the potency of modern weapons,
with our own destruction.
The seduction of war is insidious because so much of what we
are told about it is true -- it does create a feeling of
comradeship which obliterates our alienation and makes us, for
perhaps the only time of our life, feel we belong.
War allows us to rise above our small stations in life; we
find nobility in a cause and feelings of selflessness and even
bliss. And at a time of soaring deficits and financial scandals
and the very deterioration of our domestic fabric, war is a fine
diversion. War for those who enter into combat has a dark beauty,
filled with the monstrous and the grotesque. The Bible calls it
the lust of the eye and warns believers against it. War gives us
a distorted sense of self; it gives us meaning.
(A man in the audience says: "Can I say a few words here?"
Hedges: Yeah, when I finish.)
Once in war, the conflict obliterates the past and the future
all is one heady intoxicating present. You feel every heartbeat
in war, colors are brighter, your mind races ahead of itself.
(Confusion, microphone problems, etc.) We feel in wartime
comradeship. (Boos) We confuse this with friendship, with love.
There are those who will insist that the comradeship of war is
love -- the exotic glow that makes us in war feel as one people,
one entity, is real, but this is part of war's intoxication.
Think back on the days after the attacks on 9-11. Suddenly we
no longer felt alone; we connected with strangers, even with
people we did not like. We felt we belonged, that we were somehow
wrapped in the embrace of the nation, the community; in short, we
no longer felt alienated.
As this feeling dissipated in the weeks after the attack,
there was a kind of nostalgia for its warm glow and wartime
always brings with it this comradeship, which is the opposite of
friendship. Friends are predetermined; friendship takes place
between men and women who possess an intellectual and emotional
affinity for each other. But comradeship -- that ecstatic bliss
that comes with belonging to the crowd in wartime -- is within
our reach. We can all have comrades.
The danger of the external threat that comes when we have an
enemy does not create friendship; it creates comradeship. And
those in wartime are deceived about what they are undergoing. And
this is why once the threat is over, once war ends, comrades
again become strangers to us. This is why after war we fall into
despair.
In friendship there is a deepening of our sense of self. We
become, through the friend, more aware of who we are and what we
are about; we find ourselves in the eyes of the friend. Friends
probe and question and challenge each other to make each of us
more complete; with comradeship, the kind that comes to us in
patriotic fervor, there is a suppression of self-awareness,
self-knowledge, and self-possession. Comrades lose their
identities in wartime for the collective rush of a common cause
-- a common purpose. In comradeship there are no demands on the
self. This is part of its appeal and one of the reasons we miss
it and seek to recreate it. Comradeship allows us to escape the
demands on the self that is part of friendship.
In wartime when we feel threatened, we no longer face death
alone but as a group, and this makes death easier to bear. We
ennoble self-sacrifice for the other, for the comrade; in short
we begin to worship death. And this is what the god of war
demands of us.
Think finally of what it means to die for a friend. It is
deliberate and painful; there is no ecstasy. For friends, dying
is hard and bitter. The dialogue they have and cherish will
perhaps never be recreated. Friends do not, the way comrades do,
love death and sacrifice. To friends, the prospect of death is
frightening. And this is why friendship or, let me say love, is
the most potent enemy of war. Thank you.
(Boos cheers, shouts, fog horns and the like)
Copyright © 2003 Rockford Register Star
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