On my first date with Jake, we had an argument. Jake wanted to invade Iraq, give the whole country some hell, and maybe napalm some elementary schools.
"Really?" I asked. "You want to napalm elementary schools?"
"Nah. But this isn't about oil, you know. This is about bringing a nation into freedom, and making sure they don't have an opportunity to fuck things up for us anymore. Do you know how many weapons of mass destruction they have?"
I replied: "I wish we could all just get along."
Jake was insistent. Jake didn't want to get along. Jake wanted to pound the shit out of Iraq. I wanted to get along. I wanted to put daisies in gun barrels and blow kisses at dictators to make them question their ways.
We glared at each other.
Then we grinned at each other. In that grin, we fell in love.
Now, I went to exactly one peace rally, or "anti-war protest," or whatever you want to call it. During this rally, I shook a makeshift instrument made out of a plastic water bottle filled with screws. I may have yelled a little bit. I listened to the music, and looked at all the signs, and posted a little note on the door of Representative Brian Baird's office. (Baird, the next day, voted "no war." I was convinced it was my note that did it...)
But really, I mostly went to this rally because I like lots of noise, and people chanting, and shaking water bottles filled with screws. For me, it wasn't exactly about "peace" -- it was about noise.
I said to Jake: "Listen, I'm neither pro-war, nor anti-war."
He listened intently. Jake's usually a very good listener. It's a good thing, because I require attention at random, unexpected moments.
I continued: "See, I wish we could all just get along. I'm not naive enough to believe that that can always work. But, at the very bottom of my heart, I don't want anybody to get hurt."
Jake muttered something under his breath, but still listened respectfully.
"I'm not in favor of invading anybody, because, like [your buddy] R. said, it's not really much of our business what's going on in Iraq."
Jake had to interrupt: "If they've got chemical warfare, if they're really building a nuke, you bet it's our business!"
"Right," I said. "And I agree, to a point. After all, if I know somebody's planning on blowing me up, I'd really rather blow them up first. But here's where I have the problem... How do I know if Iraq has these weapons of mass destruction?"
Jake told me that the CIA, and the Secret Service, and lots of super-secret-special-force people had reliable information.
I said: "EXACTLY! And since I'm not the CIA, or whoever, I don't know. I have to either take it on faith that Iraq has fucked-up weapons, or I have to take it on faith that they don't. The pro-war people are blindly believing the White House. The anti-war people are blindly believing... well, who knows what. But the truth is, you and I, in Olympia, Washington, have no fucken clue as to whether Iraq has anything. Until I know, as in, the evidence is placed right in front of my face, with a sticker saying, 'made in Iraq' on it, I can't believe they've got anything. Neither can I believe that they don't. For now, I'd rather protest in the name of getting along, rather than needlessly attacking another country, 'just in case.'"
Jake wasn't exactly pleased with that. But he wasn't displeased, either. It's difficult to talk politics with Jake, because our political backgrounds are so incredibly different. For a long time, we didn't agree on much. Now, we both agree that current drug laws are fucked up, that G.W. has no sense of internal economic management, that civil rights are good, and that we like Thomas Jefferson.
That was how we settled the Iraq debate: we sort of agreed that we didn't know, and couldn't EXACTLY be sure one way or the other. Jake still wanted to blow them up to err on the side of precaution for America. I still wanted to make noise in the streets and just get along. But at least we'd stopped glaring at each other about it.
Jake said: "I think G.W. is just waiting, biding his time... When they go over there and find those weapons, all these damned hippies dancing in the streets and blocking traffic are going to look pretty stupid. What're they gonna say then?"
So then we waited... To see if Iraq had any weapons of mass destruction.
As of now, the hippies still aren't looking all that stupid.
G.W., however, is looking pretty damned pathetic:
Referring to the ousted Iraqi president, Bush said, "Saddam Hussein was a threat to America and the free world in '91, in '98, in 2003. He continually ignored the demands of the free world, so the United States and friends and allies acted."
The president did not mention Iraqi unconventional weapons in his remarks, although accusations Iraq had chemical and biological weapons were central to his prewar campaign to build support for an attack. No such weapons have yet been found.
--Randall Mikkelsen, Reuters, June 16, 2003.
I'm not saying Saddam Hussein is a good guy. Hell, I know, from personal experience, that he's not a good guy. If he was a good guy, he would have answered my letter when I was ten. Or at least had some official look over it and send me a postcard back. But no: Saddam Hussein was in hiding. Fucking bastard. Dude, I wrote to Socks, the First Cat of the Clinton administration, and got a postcard back from SOCKS. Socks didn't even have HANDS, and I got a postcard from him! Saddam had no excuse.
Aside from that, no, I suppose Mr. Hussein and company weren't such a great crowd. Most news sources agree that he was a pretty bad fellow. You could also see as much in the eyes of the Kurdish refugees in Johnson City. It was difficult to talk to any of them. First of all, they just seemed to hate "Americans." I don't blame them for that; they were taunted and tortured for their beautiful dark skin, their lack of English, and their status as "sand niggers." So I never talked to any of the Kurdish kids in my high school. They didn't want to talk to me. But you could still see, in their eyes, in their restlessness, that they hadn't had good lives in Iraq.
So, no, Saddam Hussein was not, and probably still isn't, a good guy. I KNOW that. I've SEEN that. So, fuck him, you know? It's not that I think his regime was good. It's NOT that I think the U.S. should turn its back on people suffering.
But! That was not the reason the U.S. government gave for the invasion! This was not about human rights! This was about "protecting American lives"! This was about preventing acts of terror against Americans! Blah, blah, blah! This was about "weapons of mass destruction."
But now, it appears there aren't any weapons of mass destruction.
Or maybe they're just hidden REALLY well.
This is NOT my way of saying "I told you so," to Jake or anybody else.
As a matter of fact, Jake and I appeared to be in perfect agreement on one thing: it's fucking stupid to trust anybody blindly, whether they're crazy hippies, or your own government. Trust no one. Unless you know them pretty well. Conversely, distrust no one. Maybe just listen, and wait to see who you can trust. And while you're waiting, rant and rave and complain about world affairs.
There is no reason for an "I told you so."
There is, however, a reason to put G.W. through a huge fucking trial, and impeach the man A.S.A.P., maybe throw him in jail for war crimes... Maybe the U.S. did do some good in Iraq, and maybe it didn't. Beats the shit outta me; I'm not there to see what's going on, and I don't trust most media sources to report anything accurately. Regardless, though, the U.S. came back empty-handed: NO weapons of mass destruction. Which is, I thought, what the U.S. was THERE FOR.
I'm still waiting... Call me naive, call me whatever you want, but I wish I could trust that my government wouldn't lie to me. I hope they DO find something. Hell, maybe a can of super-mace or something...
Mostly, I'm waiting for somebody to demand some clear answers from G.W. I'm waiting to see if he gets a look of shame on his face for lying to the American public.
Somehow, I sort of doubt it.