Organization of Ten Years in 1,008 Words

I have had an extraordinarily difficult time putting my thoughts and additional research on the US Iraq Occupation into a comprehensive post outlining facts and my opinions on the topic.  The difficulty stems from the amount of time that has passed since Tower II fell on September 11, 2001 and today as I sit in my bed drinking coffee and enjoying Colorado sunshine through my windows.  A lifetime has passed for Americans.  I liken the average non-military associated American’s actual investment in the invasion of Iraq to a badly stubbed pinky toe:  1. The toe hurts so badly that the pain brings tears to your eyes at its onset.  2. You kick something soft or imaginary in retaliation.  3. You realize that it is broken.  4. The pain eventually goes away, mostly because you ignore it to avoid any further inconvenience to your life.  5. There is scar tissue and perhaps a tiny bone spur left at the site of fracture that you will never acknowledge as anything more than the downside of having pinky toes.  At work, I check the ID’s of people who were in elementary school the day the towers fell and are now drinking Kumquat Jalapeño Mojitos in an upscale eatery downtown Denver.  I too have spent the past decade being only marginally affected by US military activities abroad.  Americans are more disturbed by gas prices than loss of life.  There are calculated losses of soldiers in war, but there is no equation for how $3.79 per gallon inconveniences SUV drivers with “Support Our Troops” ribbons on their bumpers.  My opinions have mostly been privileged pontifications over wine with friends within the comfort of our national borders.  I have criticized the debacle from an ivory tower, jaded by my own pessimisms about the fundamental corruption of the United States Government.  My perspectives have never moved me to action for or against the war so as not to disrupt my personal life.  I tend to avoid using my poetry and right to free speech as vehicles for political propaganda.  I am not angry.  I feel as though I should be.  The trauma of watching an attack on national soil only stung as much as the inconvenience of airport security checks and rainbows of terror alerts.  Currently, The War on Terror buzz phrase looms dangerously close to other “reality” topics such as The Biggest Loser, Battle of the Bulge, and When Keeping it Real Goes Wrong in American pop culture.  America has managed to turn war into a colloquialism and media has helped us to swiftly forget the semantic origins of our infamous “War on Terror.”  I had a journalist associate of mine tell me that giving someone or something a nickname is a powerful control tactic.  He suggested that by using the nickname often it would make it easier to exact control over or gain submission from the named party.  I do not mean to suggest that our jargon is the only reason for our apathy toward the war, but it is a factor. 

               The War on Terror has allowed us to dehumanize the “enemy” in the case of the Iraqi occupation as well as the conflict in Afghanistan.  “Terror” is the umbrella under which we have crammed societies, men, women, children, religion, museums, and entire landscapes.  Bulging from beneath the canopy are human interest pieces and thirty-second news clips of cheerful middle-eastern children accepting candy from US troops.  The Oxford English Dictionary defines terror as, “the state of being terrified or greatly frightened; intense fear, fright, or dread.”  The semantics of waging a war on terror itself insinuate that we are fighting against a state of being, or an existence within the parameters of fear.  The act or state of terrorism, according to OED, is defined as “a policy intended to strike with terror those against whom it is adopted; the employment of methods of intimidation; the fact of terrorizing or condition of being terrorized.”  The national mood of most Americans has not experienced terrorism since the World Trade Center attacks in 2001.  I am grateful for the privilege of my citizenship because it makes me exempt from terrorism by fighting “terrorists” abroad so as not to have coffee shops and cafés reduced to rubble by unidentifiable suicide bombers.  Critical evaluation of the terminology leads one to believe that the United States is combating terror by exacting terror on an occupied land.    Riverbend’s blog, Baghdad Burning offers a rare and personal perspective of the fear, fright, and dread that Iraqi citizens faced from the 2003 US invasion until 2007 when she immigrated to Syria.    

               Throughout history, American enemies and allies have been clearly identified.  Vietnam, Japan, Germany, etc. offered national targets for our patriotism and military presence.  The War on Terror is a vague title that fails to target what US military forces have referred to as an “invisible enemy.”  Baghdad Burning suggests that the enemy is not as invisible as it is anonymous.  There was no war against Iraq military forces rather a war against anonymous potential threats fought in Iraq.  The anonymity of the target and poorly organized efforts of US military forces resulted in utter chaos in the lives of millions of Iraqi citizens who are only anonymous to Americans.  Riverbend’s blog directly applies a human element to the Iraqi occupation.  Her intellect, pride, and courage identify her as an individual who is one of many like her who make up an entire population of people who are just like us.  I do not know what will become of me or America as a result of our apathy.  Perhaps our privilege will continue to excuse our willful disbelief and ignorance.  Perhaps a movement is being formed as I write this.  Whatever the future, I am grateful for having had the opportunity to share the story of an individual who has lived on the other side of the fence and survived terrorism with grace and eloquence enough to share her story with the world.  I honor Riverbend.  I pray she is well.