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Love,
American Style
Daniel Patrick Welch
OpEdNews.Com
Can the Brits feel the love yet? Exporting democracy, it turns out, means
more than just showing unfortunate non-westerners the joys of having
someone else write a decent constitution for them. We have now advanced to
the point where we can tell even the land of the Magna Carta just where
they went wrong. Apparently, they are so inept at running their own
country that George Bush and his coterie of war criminals need to tell
them just how to tailor democracy to American tastes.
The exported version, of course, is frighteningly like the domestic one.
Free speech, first of all, is overrated, and is easily abused by misfits,
peaceniks, trade unionists and other pesky troublemakers. Might we suggest
a few important, um, improvements to make the whole thing run a little
more smoothly? Really just a nip here and a tuck there. There you go-a
Rolling Exclusion Zone would be nice. That way no one can ever get
anywhere near a visiting head of state, even if he dragged your country
into war and your people are plenty pissed off about it.
We'd also like you to basically shut down your capital, make our
shoot-to-kill snipers exempt from your laws, and never have any negative
image occupy the same TV screen (all for security, naturally) as our
fearless leader. I guess I can drop the sarcasm now. This has got to be
the most repulsive cabal ever to have seized control of the levers of
power in US history. While we wait in vain for the fires of their hellish
neocon psychosis to burn themselves out, they just keep getting worse and
worse.
You would think that in the wake of revelations that the Bliar government
begged desperately for Bush's cast of horribles to wait a bit before
sinking its teeth into the oil-filled jugular of Iraq, that maybe--just
maybe--Lon Cheney, George and crew might tread just a tad more lightly
rather than swagger into town, oozing their misplaced and unfounded hubris
all over London. You'd be wrong-again.
In fact, we're always wrong. Any vaguely humane assumption that might
dampen our revulsion and cynicism is quickly dashed. Every time we indulge
a human impulse to give these thugs the benefit of any doubt in any arena,
we are reminded that there is no redeeming aspect whatever to this
administration. But who's the wiser? Even with irony as rich as Bush and
Bliar's mutual jitters about this visit, the only Americans awake enough
to notice are the same crowd who noticed when a trillion dollars went
missing at the Pentagon. Like I said, troublemakers.
Irony may be dead, but this safety obsession should raise more than a few
eyebrows. It should be more than a bit alarming that the American
pResident cannot safely visit his only ally in his gargantuan crime
against humanity. I remember being within a stone's throw of the
Nicaraguan president, surrounded merely by a few bodyguards in the midst
of a civil war, and it begs the question of whether people like our good
Boy George might be a bit safer if they were not so widely despised. But
oh, wait, it's just because "they're jealous of our freedoms."
Begging another question: if no one notices it, does irony still exist?
Peter Jennings bookended a recent newscast with two stories that should
have made my head explode. Yet, in our new irony-free matrix, I merely
shrugged. The lead story told of how the Americans in Iraq were
"fighting back," hitting "suspected" insurgent
hideouts, and so on. Leaving aside for the moment the thousand year old
irony of "counterinsurgency" itself, the news ended with a nod
to the Toledo Blade's courageous expose of US atrocities in Vietnam's Song
Be valley three decades ago.
I had plenty of time to contemplate how much safer all this is making us
as I waited in the ER lounge for a friend who had been shot in the head
with a BB gun outside our school (true story). OK, I lied-I couldn't
really shrug, with the irony liquefying my brain and leaking out my ears
and nostrils. In the name of national security, these war criminals are
making our world and our country incalculably more dangerous. Their macho
swagger is not just an embarrassment, though it is that as well. Every
month these people stay in office sets the cause of peace and security
back a couple years.
And in the greatest of ironies, Bliar dreads the visit from his fellow
occupier. Maybe Britain, having occupied perhaps more countries than
Genghis Khan, should be jittery at the sight of its echo from across the
pond. Centuries of brutal imperial terror melt away, and past becomes
present. And why not? While they are securing the death of irony, the Bush
junta might as well do away with the concept of time itself. Their war of
terror in its current phase is desperate to find some wrinkle in time, a
wormhole to another dimension where the time worn physics of occupation do
not apply.
The string theorists of the Bush regime are wasting their time, aided and
abetted by virtually the entire opposition party (notable exceptions
Kucinich and Sharpton). Gravity still rules, and all imperial fantasy must
needs return to earth. In this light, Bush and Bliar should enjoy their
visit, perhaps with a song or two. George can quote from the Latin
American resistance his own government spent the better part of the last
century trying brutally to suppress: pueden cortar las flores, pero no
pueden cortar la primavera. Tony can share songs from his own country's
eight hundred year occupation of Ireland: "When the law can keep the
blades of grass from growing where they grow/and when the leaves in
summertime their verdure dare not show/then I will change the color that I
wear in my corbeen/but 'til that day, plase God, I'll stick to wearing of
the green."
They can reminisce about how their exports of "democracy" and
the "rule of law" have brought smiles to the faces of those they
have liberated. If they invited me, I would have shared my favorite
anecdote about democracy. Watching late night election returns with a
friend a few years back, our minds had all but been numbed into
complacency when one candidate conceded with the requisite
fought-the-good-fight-but-hey-that's-democracy shtick. My friend clicked
of the remote with a snort: "Yeah, right, that's democracy: two
virtually indistinguishable "candidates" spending a million
dollars to convince as many people as possible that the other wet the bed
when he was seven."
As far as the rule of law, Tony can dip again into his endless supply of
Irish victims. I'm thinking of The Rebel, by Padraig Pearse: "Did you
think to conquer the people? Or that law is stronger than life, or than
man's desire to be free? We shall try it out with you--ye that have
harried and held, ye that have bullied and bribed--tyrants, hypocrites,
liars!" Sit back and enjoy it while you can, boys-there are a lot of
songs yet to be written. Can't you just feel the love?
©
2003 Daniel Patrick Welch. Reprint permission granted with credit and link
to danielpwelch.com. Welch lives
and writes in Salem, Massachusetts, USA, with his wife, Julia
Nambalirwa-Lugudde. Together they run The
Greenhouse School. A writer, singer, linguist and activist, he has
appeared on radio [interview
available here] and can be available for further interviews. Past
articles, translations are available at danielpwelch.com.
Links to the website appreciated. |
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