Of Jet Planes and Justice
Why is it that all the pro-Israeli commentators, Israeli military personnel and people in positions of power, write/talk/debate about these days is the pursuit of war, of death and destruction, of annihilating the enemy, of Israel the supreme and only true democracy in the region, of war and more war and then some?
Do you ever hear them talk about the need for peace, the need to preserve life whatever its race, colour or creed? Do you ever hear them rationally debate why they have an enemy at the door? Do you ever hear or read them ask the simple question, "but who is the enemy anyway", or "and what if we just put down our arms", or "what is this justice the Arabs keep going on about"?
War is more than just death and destruction; it is political-economics, big business of the most despicable kind. Justice is irrelevant simply because people can talk all they want, but money talks louder and we all know who controls the purse strings in the Middle East. And yet, the tenacity of spirit and hope that ordinary people still cling to by their finger tips in the Arab world today is quite remarkable in view of the suffering of the innocents. One ordinary Lebanese mother interviewed on an Arab television channel, shortly after Israel so callously destroyed her village, told us she would not mourn the loss of her young daughter, "simply because she was now safe, far away from the likes of Olmert, Bush and Blair who can no longer harm her."
I took my own daughter to the airport the other day. She was leaving for Europe and was told she was not allowed to carry cosmetics onto the plane; "but I need my lip gloss" she pleaded. "Sorry, not allowed" said the understanding handling agent. "Who said so?" I found myself thinking. "Probably some politician in need of more votes somewhere on the other side of the planet" ... and you wonder why I have become so cynical? So my daughter left on her jet plane with a little piece of contraband, and we left for home. But on the way I couldn't help notice an unusual number of Che Guevara stickers on the back of Jordanian cars.
Funny that; how some men die to live, and yet others are the living embodiment of death. J
Do you ever hear them talk about the need for peace, the need to preserve life whatever its race, colour or creed? Do you ever hear them rationally debate why they have an enemy at the door? Do you ever hear or read them ask the simple question, "but who is the enemy anyway", or "and what if we just put down our arms", or "what is this justice the Arabs keep going on about"?
War is more than just death and destruction; it is political-economics, big business of the most despicable kind. Justice is irrelevant simply because people can talk all they want, but money talks louder and we all know who controls the purse strings in the Middle East. And yet, the tenacity of spirit and hope that ordinary people still cling to by their finger tips in the Arab world today is quite remarkable in view of the suffering of the innocents. One ordinary Lebanese mother interviewed on an Arab television channel, shortly after Israel so callously destroyed her village, told us she would not mourn the loss of her young daughter, "simply because she was now safe, far away from the likes of Olmert, Bush and Blair who can no longer harm her."
I took my own daughter to the airport the other day. She was leaving for Europe and was told she was not allowed to carry cosmetics onto the plane; "but I need my lip gloss" she pleaded. "Sorry, not allowed" said the understanding handling agent. "Who said so?" I found myself thinking. "Probably some politician in need of more votes somewhere on the other side of the planet" ... and you wonder why I have become so cynical? So my daughter left on her jet plane with a little piece of contraband, and we left for home. But on the way I couldn't help notice an unusual number of Che Guevara stickers on the back of Jordanian cars.
Funny that; how some men die to live, and yet others are the living embodiment of death. J
posted by joladies at Tuesday, August 22, 2006
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