Someone on the “Breaking News” board at Answerway, a fairly new Q&A Web site, posted two quotations about the current war in Iraq.  One said emphatically that we should remember that “the coalition forces are expressing love to the Iraqi peoples by being prepared to lay down their lives to remove the oppression from these people.”  The other said, with equal emphasis:  “This is not about a despotic regime who mistreats its people; if that were so, the world would have acted long ago.  But most of all this is about empire.  America is now reaching the stage which all great civilizations reach, the time to expand its influence.”

The person who quoted these two views asked: “I'm curious as to what we're supposedly doing. Are we being good human beings and trying to better life for people, or are we simply trying to attain wealth and strength for ourselves?” 

Good question.  And it’s rather obvious that where most of us stand on the war depends on which of these two motives we consider to be the driving force – or, at least, which one is the principal motivator.  Most who support the war are probably convinced that humanitarian concerns are behind this military action and that the price we – and the Iraqi people – must pay to accomplish this end is worth it.  Many who oppose the war either question its ultimate purpose (as the second quotation states) or believe that the end, in this instance or in every instance, does not justify the means of military force. 

For months, while the UN debated, the undiplomatic fur flew, and the troops shipped out, I’ve read countless commentaries on both sides.  Although I knew that whatever position I took would have no effect on what happened, I wanted to take a firm stand.  I am uncomfortable being “undecided” on major issues, but I am even more ill at ease adopting a dogmatic position when, in the privacy of my own thoughts, I know that the other side has many good points.  Like the person who posted these two messages, I found that, as she put it, “I want to think one way, and then something stirs me in another direction.” 

The hawks say, "This is the only option, and once it's over, everything will be better."  The peace advocates say, "This is the worst possible option, and, bad as it is now, once it's over, everything will be worse."  As the “hawks” and the “peaceniks” manned their battle stations on each side of the field, I have stood off to the side, shaking my head in bewilderment.  (I know better than to stand in between them and get caught in the crossfire.)  I have reached only one definite conclusion:  Most of those who have clear-cut positions are guilty of simplistic thinking, of reluctance to face the complexity of the issue.  Whether from ignorance, laziness, stubbornness, or all three, they stand on ideological papier-mâché boxes, saying, “Here I stand.  I have my mind made up, and don’t confuse me with any more information.” 

I can understand the yearning that most of us have to find simple answers in a complex world.  I can understand the patriotism of Americans who say that the war must be right because we’re doing it.  I can even understand people who join peace marches because it’s the trendy thing to do.  What I can’t understand is how readily people can entertain black-and-white thinking on an issue that, if one considers even half the implications, has many shades of gray. Such knee-jerk, simplistic viewpoints may be sincere, but each side conveniently dismisses anything that contradicts its viewpoint.  The Bush administration itself has sharply differing views, people in the military can't even agree about the way the war is being conducted, and the "talking heads" on TV run the gamut from one extreme to the other, and everything in between. 

When the fighting is over, the ideological debate will continue.  This has been a controversy of great emotional intensity, one that has engaged virtually the whole world, from the man or woman on the street to the leaders of the world’s nations.  Dogmatic stands have been made that ignore the complexity of this war and of its implications – positions from which few will be willing to stand down, no matter how the future shapes up.  And I will still be undecided, wishing I were a historian fifty years from now looking back on the opening years of the twenty-first century.  At least then I might stand a chance of knowing what the hell was going on.

Rich Turner