Writing as one having experienced both the wonderful and the not-so wonderful offerings of life, I want to reflect on what I have learned about the complex dynamics of armed conflict. I come from a people who have experienced many wars, each more gruesome than the last. But all humans have folk-histories comprised of hatreds, a sense of entitlement, and a sense of having been wronged — enough of it to go to war every couple of generations, almost as if the reality of military conflict somehow escaped the imagination.
Men go to war to experience the camaraderie and ethnic solidarity that tells them they are included in the tribe. In Ethiopia, I heard say that war is something men look forward to. They couldn’t wait to settle scores with the Eritreans. And, had I been in Eritrea, I’m sure I would have heard the same: war “ennobles” men, it gives them their identity as heroes, and so on. It seems that participation in battle has always been natural to men. As for what women thought about losing husbands and sons, this never seemed to matter much. Their job was to breed more combatants.
In Colombia, I learned of the period (1948-1958) referred to as “La Violencia,” a decade of Colombians murdering each other along political-party lines, much as if American Democrats and Republicans had decided to wipe each other out. From other Latins, I heard that Colombians generally were “mala gente,” bad people prone to violence, although the Colombians I met were peaceful enough. However, in the minds of other Latin Americans, violence became synonymous with Columbia, though history shows there has been plenty of murder and mayhem to go around.
In West Berlin I could walk along the infamous Wall. This was a scar separating a nation that had taken ages to unite. German lands had been invaded by Napoleon, then later unified by blood and steel against the French. German unification eventually figured into world-wars which tore the country in two, with ethnic Germans isolated in pockets in the East, all the way into Russia. And this, of course, without going into preceding centuries of conflict along religious affiliation, Protestant versus Catholic for thirty years of madness. A glimpse into the history of mankind will reveal man killing man, man enslaving women and children, man laying waste to homes and crops — unleashing the devil.
War is an insanity dressed up in patriotic song and ceremony as though no one were really harmed in its wake. Perhaps this form of mega-violence has genetic origins. It weeds some people out while strengthening the most resilient. Perhaps it’s a result of greed and opportunity to get what the neighbors have. It always seems to benefit industry. People have made money on war and are still doing so. It has brought fortunes to money lenders, wealth to weapons manufacturers, the suppliers of leather, gunpowder, steel, all the stuff soldiers need to perform their butchery. Whatever the factors involved, war has been part of the order of our makeup.
Once all sides of a major conflict have had enough, they want to “go home,” to live out their days in peace recalling their time as a “band of brothers” living in ditches or deserts; they recall the “great guys” they met and related to. I heard this from my own father who had fought against the Russians — what great friends the guys from Berlin were. It seems that only war can bring men together in a common experience which forges tribal bonds through blood sacrifice.
Recently, I watched a documentary in which ex-jihadis in the UK were interviewed to find out what motivated them to go killing people in far away places. Redress for feelings of rejection and inferiority, and a lack of identity were commonly mentioned. So was venting one’s anger. But there also was the experience of fraternity with like-minded souls being part of something “big.” Losers back home were transformed into heroes in battles abroad. No one could doubt the masculinity of a man scarred by battle. Battle defines men as winners.
I also recall going through old photographs showing a world in black and white, with young men — some mere teenagers — in uniform, looking purposeful and eager to prove themselves. Their time in the military, whether they saw “action” or found themselves driving a truck, provided an opportunity to prove themselves as members of society. It validated one’s way of life, values literally worth dying for, and an ideology of which most were only marginally aware. Serving in a war, in whatever post, is a rite of passage into the tribe. It gives one the right to say: “I fought for my county. I belong. What did you do?”
Killing fields have always been the testing grounds on which men encountered themselves, the venues where they found an identity, for better or worse. Some have come home with medals that they hid in drawers out of shame at having won an award which they felt they did not deserve. Such men think of themselves as imposters. But they learn to play the game, salute the flag, go along with the big deception, while feeling disgrace for having committed murder. I suspect there are many who feel this way. Others may actually believe they deserve recognition for having stuck bayonets into other human beings. Only they know what they did.
Most don’t understand how they are being used by those who would never dream of sending their own flesh-and-blood to die on muddy battlefields. You don’t usually find the offspring of the rich and powerful on the front lines, even if they are in uniform – not while Dad is making money manufacturing ammunition or promoting the war effort. And this is one reason why armed conflicts continue. The attraction of war remains; the reality of it escapes the mind. The fact that it is all a big racket doesn’t seem to register among the patriotic hoopla.
It’s unfortunate that men haven’t gotten beyond the rite of battle to feel virile members of the tribe. Even the natives of the Americas still pride themselves on being called “warriors” or “braves,” as though they were about to emerge from their tepees to confront General Custer. This notion that manhood can be claimed only by maiming others or killing them outright surely is out of date. Yet it lingers. But things have changed somewhat.
It seems some of those “pilots” who “fly” drones over enemy territory, looking for “bad guys,” then machine-gunning them en masse, are having difficulty convincing themselves of their heroic status. There is no physical danger in using a computer console to puncture bodies, explode vehicles and level homes. The fact that there are consequences in the real world is known. It is also known that innocents are part of the carnage. When soldiers normally kill, it is in a chaotic frenzy of kill-or-be-killed, a struggle for survival followed by the relief of having endured. Having survived the trial of fire provides justification for having committed murder. But this is not the case with drone pilots. They sit in a safe, comfortable place, tens of thousands of miles from the kill zone, holding lives at the mercy of their joysticks. They can wipe out a clan of bad guys, then go home to their families for dinner.
Yet the fraud of what they are doing, the false heroism, seems a betrayal of what warfare has meant for thousands of years. There is no physical test of resilience involved. No test of manhood. So, modern warfare has become purely impersonal, a non-experience of what should be a trial of resolve, courage, camaraderie. But it has nothing to do with the “true grit” of warfare. Modern war no longer provides the test men had been expecting for generations. And so, it fails to serve its timeless purpose.
It seems men will have to invent new ways to “test their metal.” Perhaps through sports, extreme contests of endurance and the like, shared with the masses via broadcasts and social media participation. If so, this could be a step forward in our cultural evolution. But not all societies evolve along the same lines at the same time. There will remain areas where throwing rocks and launching rockets as rites of passage continues. While one segment of the world enjoys battle-action virtually, others will prefer the real thing, avenging old wrongs and creating new reasons to kill. But with the march of progress, eventually even these will be sitting in front of their plasma screens cheering each murder while snacking on potato chips.
Part II – War
Since posting the above, it has been pointed out to me that there are men who go to war without wanting to. They are drafted. Granted. But that alone doesn’t explain what was attractive about the experience or why warfare continues to hold some fascination for men. It doesn’t explain any of the feelings involved, like feeling useful, feelings of belonging, or conforming to expectations; the test battle presents, and the relief of survival. Of course, there are economic, historic, ideological, and material reasons as well. Wars have changed borders; given men the opportunity to advance in society, gain power, prestige, and wealth. Or a boost to the ego. Wars have provided game-changing opportunities to further one’s life or end it.
Many on the Allied side of WWI came from boring lives in factories and isolated farms. They volunteered to go to Europe to fight in what they thought were glorious circumstances. In the previous centuries, battles like those at Waterloo were spectacles attended by citizens watching from the hills as though at a racetrack. Other wars involved the citizens as booty; the losers were put to the sword en masse or enslaved for the rest of their lives. Children born to them were born into slavery. Land traded sides. The winner’s fortunes rose with taxes they could collect and the booty in their storerooms, not to mention the added prestige. Egotism has always been a key reason for leaders to go to war.
If they were on the losing side, life became less pleasant. They were forced to pay tribute in perpetuity. They had to bow down to the winners, were humiliated in public, had their sons drafted into the winner’s armies, their girls sold into slavery or worse. Women have always been among the spoils of war. They remain so today, as the example of ISIS amply demonstrates. The losers also give up territory. Empires disintegrate when wars are lost. Ask the Incas and the Aztecs, the Byzantines, or the Arabs. Or any of the tribes of North America. The losers suffer or are put on trial for crimes while the winners pin medals on each other. You lose; you pay.
God is on our side is a claim always made in wars, at least until now. Islam and Christianity have been at each others’ throats for 1,400 years of almost continuous warfare. And when they were not fighting each other, they warred cousin vs. cousin, brother against brother, tribe against tribe. Why? Words like “glory,” come to mind – whatever that means. “Sacrifice” is another common cliché for those who fell in the First World War. “They died so that we may live.” Really? Was the Kaiser going to come to the USA, Canada, New Zealand, to invade our homes if he had won against Britain? Is that why a generation of the British Empire sent its young, bright men to the slaughter? Or was it that they didn’t appreciate times had changed and so had notions of “honour” and “glory?”
It is said that Manfred von Richthofen, the young German “Red Baron,” came to appreciate how inglorious the battle in the trenches was by visiting a hospital for regular ground troops. He usually saw them from the air, but he hadn’t seen them bleed, hadn’t smelled the rotting flesh or the stink of battle. Still, he continued until he met his Heldentod, his heroic death. In his own mind, and in those of his contemporaries, air combat was romantic, a leftover notion of the 19th century, while technology had put the tank and the gas canister into the field.
World War I changed our image of war, although the American Civil War should have done so because it was well documented. Wars have many “causes” that escape the usual analyses – economic, ideological, and so on. Wars are engendered by feelings of having been slighted, having lost one’s honour, or needing to feel better about oneself by getting revenge. These sentiments are usually born at the top. There are leaders to tell us that we are disrespected, that we need to regain face, to be men again for losers are no longer “men.” They are losers.
Self-respect is a prime reason to go to war, especially for those with tribal mentalities – people who haven’t had an atom bomb dropped on them or have had territory seized and been made to pay. Respect comes through emerging victorious on the field of battle, even if you lose the war. Having lost in Vietnam, Americans find solace in stories that celebrate the “band of brothers.” Men fought for those next to them in the jungle as they never did understand why they were in Vietnam to begin with. As for their leaders, those in the White House, they went to war to retain the global prestige that was being eaten away by communism. They were losing market share. For their part, the Vietnamese fought to be rid of colonial masters. They were tired of outsiders telling them what to do.
Even with the invention of the camera, wars have always been viewed in sanitized fashion. The blood, the spilled guts, the burned bodies – the ignominies that the flesh is prone to – is seldom experienced unless we are on the battlefield. Then the spell of “glory” is gone. But the audience for whom soldiers fight don’t experience any of it first-hand. If they did, it would drive them mad especially when, following a disastrous war, the enemy becomes one’s friend, one’s trading partner, one’s banker, or even one’s leader in a new game. Then you really have to wonder why you were fighting in the first place. It seems we resort to war because we always have done so and, as a species, we can’t seem to break out of the box.
Scent of Time 