Life of an average joe

These essays cover a tour in Afghanistan for the first seventeen letters home. For an overview of that tour, and thoughts on Iraq, essays #1, #2 and #17 should suffice. Staring with the eighteenth letter, I begin to recount -- hopefully in five hundred words -- some daily aspects of life in Mexico with the Peace Corps.



Saturday, December 8, 2012

Letter 72: Why invading Syria is a bad idea...

BLUF (bottom-line up-front): any prescribed policy in a conflict zone is nothing more than a smartly presented best-case scenario.

A (LAST) Chance Meeting. We had known each other for a few weeks from the common tent out behind the Embassy. But Antony was a great guy. Former red-coat on special duty in Ireland, he had a far better idea than I about these types of situations, in places like Belfast or Baghdad. What I also enjoyed was his intellect. Long before, various Brits had taught me that one need not go to college to be an incisive thinker.


Much like activated National Guardsmen from across ‘the pond’; Antony was more than a citizen-soldier: he was a thinking soldier. Two things I lamented in my friendship with him: that Lieutenant Cunningham – a brave and fair young lass in the U.S. Army – never reciprocated his fancy for her and, far worse, the day he told me that, after just six weeks in-country, he was fed up and heading home to England. 

“Why, Antony?” I asked already ruing the loss of a brief but meaningful acquaintance.

“Because, Ned, the way this is going, there will be regional war before it’s over…”

Marshalling up my splendidly articulate ignorance, I said rather flippantly, “Lighten up! It’s only Iraq…”

Antony winced and shook his head, not so much dismissively but in an unspoken message, “Trust me, you’ll get it soon enough…” And I did. Antony’s dark message has not come to pass, yet. Nevertheless, we have seen the emergence of the ‘Shi´ite crescent’ and the anxiety raised by Sunnis across the Middle East as President Bush’s surge narrowly averted a sectarian genocide…once.

Antony's Enduring Whisper. In recalling that conversation of eight and a half years ago, I am reminded again of why the hardest thing to do at times is nothing. We read every day that thousands upon thousands of Syrians have died at the hands of a dictator not yet gone but definitely gone rogue. This slow-motion slaughter has been unfolding for a year or more; chemical weapons (probably taken in from Saddam before his régime collapsed in 2003) may be next. We have done very little during this violence; there probably is not much we can do.

What the West is failing to understand is that the Arab Spring will have a violent dimension to it. Most revolutionary contagions do. Though I fear for the safety of Israël and, with her, democracy no matter how flawed, there are also so violent sectarian upheavals shaking the foundations of Islam itself.  Truth is, from the standpoint of theology, Judaism and Islam are closer together than either is with Christianity.

The emergence of Shi´ism and its veneration of certain prophets or great imams as Christ-like as well as its mythology of the hidden imam certain to return in glory to judge the quick and the dead, has catalyzed a centuries-long conflict.  This religious persecution and in-fighting has played out on the extremes of both theological dialects. 

Most Muslims, Sunni or Shi´ite, follow the prophet’s guidance of clean living, clear devotion and prayerful peace. Unfortunately, part of the Arab Spring is our having to watch, with pained passivity, a dangerously bloody revulsion on two levels:
  • the over-reach and ultimate repudiation (probably violent) of extremist movements that tend to fare better in the shadows of secular totalitarianism than in the new light of freedom; as well as, 
  • the popular, probably violent, overthrow of secular dictators using brutality to keep their money coming and their countries quiet.
After that revulsion is exhausted, ironically, it may well be Israel who will lead the way to peaceful relations through democracies predicated on faith yet dedicated to tolerance. Until then, sadly, it will be a bloody process. Let’s look at some of the antecedents to the current dilemmas of Syria facing the West.

Who the hell invited N.A.T.O.? From the parochially American point of view, what we are seeing is the fall-out from the intervention in Libya.  The N.A.T.O. mission was to take out the weapons of slaughter at a dictator’s disposal.  That noble end quickly morphed into an assassination campaign of that dictator himself. Now that ugly Qaddafi was one nasty dude, no doubt. Nevertheless, he had tried to clean up his act, at least to the world outside.

The crazy Colonel had not sponsored terrorism for two decades and foresworn development of weapons of mass-destruction seven years ago. In Libya, N.A.T.O. sent the wrong signal to other dictators, like the one in Syria: “You might as well fight it out to the death because we will kill you when we want to kill you whether you have ‘gone civilized’ or not…"
The European Hangover.
Much of the current turmoil probably goes back for more than a millennium. Nonetheless, a lot of the problems into which N.A.T.O. currently inserts itself are forcing (more likely inviting) a traditionally anti-imperialist country, the United States, into participating in the clean-up of past European colonialism. 

Kiss the hard earned the U.S. reputation for credibility and fairness good-bye. If France and Italy or even the United Kingdom feel compelled to do something about Syria, Libya, Egypt etc., then let NATO intervene. As we did under President Eisenhower in 1956 with respect to Britain, France and Israël ganging up on Egypt, the U.S. should stake out an unambiguous position that it will not participate in military attacks in the case of Syria.

The United States should signal clearly that it is ready to use its assets only for humanitarian missions. In the interim, U.S. diplomats publicly lobby Islamic nations in more peaceful parts to supply peace-keepers. That will force the ex-colonialists to live with the choices they make today and resolve their miscues of yesterday.


Timing is everything. The late hour of all of this diplomatic dithering, curiously furious within weeks following the U.S. elections, casts the sincerity of U.S. intentions into doubt. Twice the number Mexicans have died due to drug wars – behind which the U.S.-based demand and the failed policy of the ‘War on Drugs’ remain the big drivers – than in Syria. No response to the 85,000 dead in Mexico.  

Our soldiers have been exploited shamelessly for eleven years, often to cover for failed policies. Many of our citizen soldiers have fought twice or thrice as long as did those of the greatest generation. Whoops. There is no direct and compelling national interest for the U.S. in attacking Syria. It poses no existential threat to the U.S. or, probably, to Israël. 

The blood-drunk anarchy that will engulf the land after a hopelessly under-resourced intervention will be far more ominous to the region’s only democracy, Israël. Details, details; sniff, sniff. These general critiques are damning enough to argue against the threatened intervention by invasion rumoured as being discussed in Paris and Washington.

The ‘Antony’ factor is the one that worries me most. It became obvious that the Iraqi Ministry of Interior was fast becoming the “Ministry of Death” in 2005 as Shi´ite militias thoroughly compromised the police force. Then along came the idea of partitioning Iraq into ethno-sectarian super-regions a year later with the constitution.

The worst case scenario emerged of a general Persian-Arab conflict fought out on Iraqi soil. 
That scenario leads me to say that I may well burn in Hell for supporting the invasion of Iraq, which I did and, on balance, still do. Now to explain the logic, that scenario assumed that Iraq would split up into regions and a sectarian civil war would break out.

As the Sunnis would likely be slaughtered by the Shi´ite militias supported by Iran, Sunni-Arab neighbors – like Saudi Arabia, Jordan and Turkey as well as, perhaps, more distant lands like Egypt and the Emirates – would intervene to aid the Iraqi Sunnis and to hip-check Iran. 
That would lead to an Iranian invasion of Southern Iraq to protect Shi’ites and, more importantly, to grab the oil so plentiful in that part of a great and beleaguered land.

The majority of Shi’ites not involved with the militias would side eventually with the Sunni countries as fellow Arabs. What would really happen is anybody’s guess. It would be ugly.  The analysis here may have many flaws; at least, it is based on one irrefutable premise: that the Middle East and Persian Gulf is taut with tension where a miscalculation can occur and cascade.


Now we come back to Syria. While that initial scenario did not involve Syria directly (presuming its neutrality until the minority régime would get a bloody boot from the majority Sunni Arabs), the current situation and a push toward an overtly American role in trying to 'fix' it, could easily spiral out of control. 

In 2005, such a scenario with Syria seemed  less likely, even with the Lebanese uprising. Yet in 2012, we are at the end-point of years of demonizing Iran, making the country’s twice-elected president some type of satanic monster. We willfully overlook the presence of a strong middle class and a long tradition of a cosmopolitan culture.

These forgotten or overlooked Iranians will eventually undo the theocratic tyranny that rules the country now. Like it or not, the issue about a nuclear Iran is a red herring meant to obscure the perceived U.S. interest in preventing Iran’s ascent as a regional hegemon. 
Iran has largely remained peaceful; it is we who have been aggressive.

Iran may well instigate Southern Iraq into establishing itself as a super-region under the country's American-crafted and stunningly out-of-touch 'Constitution'. Then Iran will try to seduce that region into becoming a subtle satellite flying an Iraqi flag that flutters toward Teheran. That translates into different tariffs and border policies favouring Iran over Iraq.


Relative to Syria, that is to say: in the wider context of the unrelenting, albeit largely non-lethal, aggression shown toward Iran for years, a U.S. intervention in Syria (and that is how Teheran would likely view a N.A.T.O. military action without an explicit and demonstrable U.S. absence) would entail relentless bombing, perhaps an invasion, followed by the likely assassination of a pro-Persian dictator. 

That train of events could threaten Iran (from her perspective, not ours).
  The leadership in Teheran, increasingly insecure in Iran, could think that we are intent on breaking up what is a mythic crescent in the first place. That perception by Iran would elicit strong, though likely covert, responses. With the U.S. seen to be leading the charge, Israël would likely be blamed also for instigating the overthrow and the bloody civil war that has engulfed Syria.

The two allies would be viewed as trying to destroy Islam, whether or not that sentiment were true.  And that idea is probably not true. With small miscalculations, that could lead to a muscular Iranian response, through Iraq or Kurdistan, enough to precipitate a much larger conflict in which nobody wins but many, many lose their lives.

Monday, December 3, 2012

Letter-71: week-end in Puebla


My stay in Puebla with Mr Jajean Rose and his lovely better half, Ms Ana Hernandez-Balzac, was not only restful but quite a learning experience.  After a mood-settling bus ride, I arrived in Puebla about two hundred miles southeast of Querétaro.  Ana kindly met me at the bus station, which gave me a chance to catch up.  Before I launch into what may seem like a simple recounting of conversations that we all have every day, I want to say that these two Peace Corps volunteers are interesting people and are well worth the recount.

Ana filled me in on the imminent end for her and Jajean of their tours with the Peace Corps and some prospects emerging for them.  I have been keeping my fingers crossed that Jajean will enjoy an emerging opportunity to work for a land conservation organization in New England.  Ana is looking at applying concepts of living space management from Europe in the United States.

This would be an advancement in planning and reminiscent of the quip of many historians that Europe tends to trend a generation ahead of the United States.  We arrived to the office shared by Ana and her husband, Jajean, in the local office of the national environmental ministry, wherein Jajean filled me in on his current efforts.

Jajean has been a life-long birder and has given full reign to his two first loves: birding and his birding wife. He has put together, as a product of his own initiative, the first catalogue of local species of birds for the State of Puebla.  The Municipio of Puebla has three and the State six million people.  This job of re-writing, collating personal photographs and keeping the text accessible to non-birders is a far bigger effort than it sounds.

Why?  Later in the week-end, Jajean and Ana explained to me the unexpectedly vibrant intellectual world of birding.  Not a staid re-tweet from life at all.  You see, the same bird can have different names in different places – even in a small state like Puebla (i.e., roughly the size of Maryland) – owing to a lack of scientific knowledge compounded by the absence of a standard taxonomy in Spanish, traditional names assigned locally and the multiplicity of indigenous dialects.

Thus, it is quite likely that a group of people looking at the same heron will delight in identifying what sounds like three different birds.  Beyond this confusion, the grouping of different species is a moving – no, high-flying – target provoking often heated debates.  For example, Jajean and Ana explained to me – if I remember this discussion well – that falcons are more related to seagulls than to eagles (or inland predators). Tried though they did, this young couple could not ‘shore’ up this and other gaping chasms of my ignorance.

What it all said to me, however, was that this beautifully designed book of fifty pages represented the ´fine-point’ tip a very large iceberg of knowledge, research and professional judgements focused into a first-class product.  Jajean had also spent several months researching the flora and fauna; coordinating the efforts of local academics and birders; as well as composing in Spanish a technical proposal to make an area reservoir, Valsequillo, a ‘Ramsar’ site.

Being designated a 'Ramsar' site would make this reservoir a globally recognized wetlands area, and a site worth saving in México.  Most of us ‘al norte’ have not heard of this designation for two reasons: this 1971 wetlands convention was formalized in Iran and we are the bad boys of wetlands.   The odds were not in Jajean’s favor since the reservoir has been condemned to be a sewage and industrial waste dump.  Most locals (known as poblanos) had given up on Valsequillo as a lost cause.

Not Jajean Rose: his spirited efforts overcame probabilities and institutional resistance, not the least of which was that an ‘extranjero’ led the charge.  Nevertheless, the reservoir and its adjacent land were designated as a Ramsar site by the Mexican government earlier this year.  All this was on Jajean’s spare time while he did more mundane things (i.e., office-work) for the Environmental Ministry.  Ana has been doing outreach work on eco-education as well as protection in the use of Valsequillo, a biosphere nearly twice the size of Pittsburgh.

We closed the night talking about the re-election of President Obama and the trends my friends see in – as well as their beliefs about – American politics.  On Saturday morning, the three of us joined six other volunteers and about twenty-five poblanos, with a collective wing-span of three generations, in Puebla to go bird-watching for about five hours in the Valsequillo biosphere.
The great thing about bird-watching, for those who do it, is that it provides an opportunity for enjoying a shared interest, for healthy debate among experts (or at least those who know a hell of a lot more than I do) and for catching up among friends.  Since Jajean was actually leading the tour, I did not get to yammer with him too much during that stretch.  As I like to do with happy couples (being a ‘confined’ bachelor myself), I asked Ana how these two met.

It is a wonderful story.  Jajean had finished his undergraduate work at the University of Buffalo – quite the under-rated school smack-center in the burr-zone of Northern New York State – while Ana had studied at a University in Puerto Rico (where her French ancestors had settled as migrating Communards in the 1870s).  Ana and Jajean met at the University of Buffalo in the same graduate program in (I believe) urban planning.  Ana had been a birder since high-school.

When they happened upon lunch together, Jajean apparently asked Ana about her interests.  Now as young students, I suspect that more than a few of us agonized over what to disclose, lest something come across as quirky…Not Ana.  As she told me (in effect), “I really don’t know but I just decided to be who I was…and so I said I like bird-watching…”  I can see in my mind´s eye twenty-five or so poblanos who were very glad that Ana made that decision several years ago.

Jajean apparently did a double-take…”¿¡bird-watching!?”  And the rest is a history that ably affirms the aphorism that birds of a feather do indeed flock together.  I also had a chance to meet three new environmental volunteers who had just moved out to their centers after plus catch up with an acquaintance stationed in the area for over a year.  Finally, I got to spend some time with another great Peace Corps couple just as they were heading home to the United States.

One of the newbettes teased me mercilessly about my bird-brain or lack thereof, we both got a good laugh out of it.  The irony is that, if a guy had said these things, I might well have taken umbrage and raised a fuss. Yet, when such ribbing comes from a fair lass, I feel perversely praised...  The couple that is leaving is looking to create a business that would enable public schools to out-source the teaching of a religion course without getting snared in Church-State issues .

First, there would be a degree of separation so the public school is not directly promoting a religion or the concept of religion in general. Additionally, the idea does not represent a traditional religion course in the sense of comparing and contrasting faiths but a course in pursuing a spiritual dimension through authentic American voices like those of Martin Luther King, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Jonathan Edwards, Martin Buber, etc.

These ideas enliven me and that is why I always enjoy listening to the visions of these and other extraordinary young people.  The course-work would also include spiritual practices like meditation, yoga, etc. to give children a base on which to anchor their future lives in a spirit based on values from America past and present. What  a pity (for me) that I did not meet this couple, the wife of which was a spitting image – more by temperament – of one of my favorite cousines, Katy Koppanyi.

Now bird-watching itself has always been a subject of curiosity for me, never fulfilled due to my lack of patience and discipline to learn at every opportunity.  Anyways, I learned many things in those five hours. The most important was why I had admired so much two teachers under whom I had been lucky enough to flounder as a fifteen year old.

Long after these mentors had won my lifelong respect (i.e., within a couple of weeks), I found out that they shared one thing in common: bird-watching.  One had been a Rhodes Scholar and the other had been one of a very few who booked on Milgram after the third switch.

That morning, with half a dozen Peace Corps types and two dozen poblanos, I learned the reason why bird-watching made those two teachers so special, as it does these two friends four decades later.  It is an activity – though often punctuated by little, almost reticent, movements – that requires a patience that few people have.  Beyond that and good eyesight, it requires the ability focus one’s kinetic and intellectual energies minutely to dis-embed frequently camouflaged birds from subtly hued backgrounds.

Like Zen masters, then, bird-watchers have that ability to harness their humanly fragmented minds into a focus that, with time, becomes a beam of conscience.  Bird-watchers not only know their species, they know their birds. Even a 'lard-carrying' member of the "booboisie" like me understands how timid the great majority of birds really are.

To approach these beautiful beings requires time, patience, a little stealth in silence.  Beyond the absence of sudden movements apt to startle a bird into flight, I sensed that the really good birders could almost connect with the objects of their commitment and costly cameras.  This rare ability to focus one’s being in the here-and-now, not to mention an uncommon ability to connect on some level with an animal, are traditional signs of an elevated conscience.

The last thing I learned was that there is great humor in all of this heady stuff.  For example, catching a bird in the act on camera is almost impossible to do by design, but those ‘poopoorazzis’ lucky enough to catch the fecal flight-line have set up a site to document forever their moments of shutter-clicking shame.  It seems that the private world of birding has its own exclusive club of bathroom humor.

Afterward, we took two hour naps, which benefitted me a great deal and then out for a night on the town. Those who know me well know that I am ‘rather sedate’ (i.e., dull), especially as I do not like alcohol. Fortunately, this preference against pursuing the spirits worked for my far more interesting hosts, too.  We had an elegant dinner and I had some of the best mole (pronounced moe-lay) ever with delicious chicken.

Yummy.

For two or three hours we walked around the ‘Centro’ (the old town) and I got to see first-hand just what a beautiful city Puebla really is.  Americans are indirectly familiar with Puebla because it was here, one hundred fifty years ago, that the Mexicans defeated the French on the ‘cinco de mayo’ 1862 to curtail any further sustained hegemony from outside powers.

In truth, Corona Beer has managed to make ‘el cinco de mayo’ a larger figment of American culture than fixture in the Mexican.   One reason why this holiday may be less important than others in Mexico – so I have heard – is that poblanos are snooty and think they are better than everybody else.  Well, permit me to report that poblanos are not at all conceited.  Truthfully, I found the people to be friendly and cosmopolitan. They reflect their city.  Puebla is truly an international city.

As we roamed those streets, I would find that some blocks would remind me of Paris – complete with a grand bistro parisien – while others were more like Madrid and still others like Italy.  Another interesting facet of this city, which makes it worthwhile to visit, is the ‘story of the block’.  It seemed that every block in the core part of the Centro had a building with an interesting history, either an old art-school (with representations of different types) converted into museums.

My favorite story involved the frieze around the door of a grand old home that related a relatively recent legend of a man who (I believe) had lost a son to some nasty serpent from a nearby river (paved into the history books some sixty years ago) that came slithering to shore every night.  In any case, the grieving father let it be known that whoever felled the serpent by his own hand would win the hand of his daughter.  Well, this campesino, who was an Arthurian type (i.e., from modest means but innately patrician), did away with that serpent, married rich and learned to love.

Proved to this paragon of downward mobility (i.e., me) that upward mobility is still alive and well…yeah!