Accidental Blogger

A general interest blog

Kathleen Parker of the Washington Post has some adult thoughts on the killing of Osama bin Laden.

It seems nearly heretical to say so, but the termination of Osama bin Laden feels oddly anti-climactic.

Now what? And how to explain the sense that nothing has changed? The boogeyman may be dead, but the boogey is still at large in the world.

How, also, to explain my own discomfort as others have expressed jubilation? ’Twas a mystery….

Whereupon the strangest thing happened. People began congregating outside the White House and cheering, celebrating the death of bin Laden. Young people, mostly, chanted “USA” and waved the flag. I wanted very much to share their joy and to feel, ah yes, solidarity in this magnificent moment, but the sentiment escaped me. Curiosity was the most I could summon. How curious that people would cheer another’s death.

Not since Dorothy landed her house on the Wicked Witch of the East have so many munchkins been so happy. My 20-something son explained ever so patiently that OBL was his generation’s Hitler and that of course he was happy. Why wasn’t I?

I don’t know. To me, the execution of bin Laden was more punctuation than poetry — a period at the end of a Faulknerian sentence. That is, too long and rather late-ish. To the 9/11 generation, if we may call it that, OBL wasn’t only the mastermind of a dastardly act; he was evil incarnate and the world wouldn’t be safe until he was eliminated.

Would that justice were so neat and evil so conveniently disposed of….

Inarguably, Osama bin Laden needed to leave this earth — and perhaps it is just that he did so by the wit, sleuth and sure aim of our bravest men. Even so, discomfort is a necessary companion to any violence we commit, even in the service of good. There is nothing to celebrate in any man’s death, and I wish this had been the sentiment telegraphed to the rest of the world rather than the loutish hoorahs of late-night revelers.

Bin Laden was an icon and a figurehead. But he was not the sole proprietor of evil. For all of human time, it seems, there will be another one willing to fill his shoes and eager to find expression in others’ suffering. Evil, after all, is a vagabond, ever on the prowl for a crack in the door.

Not to be one of those Debbie Downers who puts things in unwelcome perspective, but shouldn’t we be slightly less delighted to kill? Triumphalism might play better on the day when we no longer have to kill each other.

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3 responses to “Difference between relief and triumphalism”

  1. Dean C. Rowan

    Hardly fair to Faulkner, but I guess that’s a matter of personal taste. More important is the deeply disappointing observation that nothing has changed. Of course, in a way nothing has changed. In another way, a lot has changed. For instance, we have reinstated the monarchy. Shall we take tea?
    This is a suitable place to pick up the commentary scrolling beneath the earlier post about justice. Parker here sounds the theme of narrative (the periodic contortions of Faulkner, the tidy bedtime story about Oz). She laments our willingness to be duped by story telling. Similarly, Norman, when you wrote, “Justice was giving the victims, and those who spoke for them, a chance to tell their stories,” I reacted against what I heard as trivialization of Justice (big ‘J’). I don’t dispute that trauma victims need to express their experiences and feelings as a way to recovery. Isn’t it possible, though, that some trauma victims refuse to tell their stories precisely because they already know that doing so won’t secure Justice?

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  2. During the Falklands War (Guerra de las Malvinas,) Argentina deployed to combat its light cruiser, General Belgrano. It was sunk by the British nuclear powered submarine, HMS Conqueror. The hunter-killer submarine was skippered by Comander Chris Wreford-Brown. The Belgrano carried 991 aboard, of whom 323 perished in the sinking.
    Wreford-Brown spoke about the action of his submarine and crew after the victory for the Brits. He described the hunting and tracking of the Belgrano, and the sub’s efforts to avoid detection by the Belgrano’s escorts. Anyone who has seen a submarine war movie can appreciate the actions and tensions among the crew in the pursuit of the Belgrano so they could sink it. Wreford-Brown said the entire crew burst into a victory cheer when their three torpedoes hit and, not long afterward, sunk the Argentine warship.
    It was later, Wreford-Brown said, that the jubilation, the victory hurrahs, and the triumphal cheers gave way to a quiet and a very personal reflection on what they had accomplished. It began to ‘sink’ in that their victory in carrying out their orders to protect themselves and their fellow warriors on surface and land required them to kill other people like themselves – sailors following orders in defense of their country. Upon returning home, they cheered their shipmates, their country, and their victory. No one cheered the loss of life from the crew of the Belgrano. For this they would forever be saddened, forever mindful of the dead sailors and the ones who loved them, and forever more respectful for the gift of life.
    My father was a combat paratrooper in WWII – D-Day Normande, Battle of the Bulge (he was wounded), and the invasion of the German homeland. I accompanied him and many fellow veterans from his regiment on several trips to the battle grounds where they fought, and where their friends were wounded or killed. My father told me, “I killed a lot of guys.” It was not a boast or expression of satisfaction in any way. It was a statement of regret. Everyone of his fellow combat veterans, whom I met, had the same feeling. But, they were proud of what they did in defeating fascism and Hitler.
    When they were told that Germany surrendered, and the war was over, there was no jubilation and cheering – no scene like Times Square. They killed too many people, and too many of their own were killed, and there had been too much suffering for there to be cheers, shouts and song. They thought, the war is over, we did our job, we are still alive, and now we get to go home. Arriving home they did not hush the cheers and music and accolades. Nor did they want to. It gave them a sense of vindication. It validated their belief that the death and destruction they had to deliver upon others would be forgiven because they were opposing evil.
    When you watch a parade or other tribute to combat veterans, it is the young and those who never experienced combat who will sing and cheer and rejoice and honor the veterans and the fallen – as they should. The surviving veterans of combat are more likely to stand mute, and be respectful. For many, an attempt to say a few words only stills their voice, they choke up, and eyes well with tears. They want to hear the singing, the music, the cheering, and watch the dress uniform parades. They are reminders that they are forgiven and that they will find redemption, though they had to destroy the lives of so many others.
    It is OK to cheer a victory, bejewel our soldiers with medals, and denounce the enemy. We should also take a lesson from those who survived combat, and try to appreciate what they have learned. War is the killing of people and the destruction of property in the name of one’s country. There is nothing to be celebrated about war.

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  3. Dean,
    Thanks for the invitation. The discussion of ‘story telling’ seems to be going in a direction that is not clear to me. So I will sit this one out.

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