INSURGENT
Once again there has been another insurgent/freedom fighter/resistance attack upon troops in Iraq. It is a horrible situation for all involved.The world renowned and controversial journalist Robert Fisk came to Wellington a few months ago. He told us that he spent a day with the Iraqi police in Baghdad; they were friendly and very open. Throughout the day they told him how much they hated the American and British troops. By the end of the day Robert realised that these young men were Iraqi Police by day and ‘insurgents’ by night. “We will get the Americans out Mr Fisk!”
I have to admit if there were foreign troops in my country, marching through my streets, setting up check points in my community, pointing guns at me and my loved ones, imposing curfews and smashing down my door to check for whatever they like, there is no doubt in my mind that I would join a resistance. I would hate them and want them out, especially if they had bought nothing but chaos and civil war.
On the flipside, if I were a troop in this place, trying to help the people and keep myself alive at the same time. Yet I don’t know who is my friend or foe, if they want to shake my hand or take my life, I would be confused, disgruntled and dangerous.
Then who is to blame for this? As a young confused poet caught in the madness of world war one, Wilfred Owen asked the same question.
The Parable of the Old Man and the Young
So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake and said,
My Father,Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb, for this burnt-offering?
Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps,
And builded parapets and trenches there,
And stretchèd forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! an Angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not they hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him, thy son.Behold!
Caught in a thicket by its horns,
A Ram. Offer the Ram of Pride instead.
But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of Europe, one by one.
