Personal Reflections on War
February 16th, 2004by Georgina Callan, New Orleans
It is hard to express tolerance and patience when there are declarations from the highest office in the land of “war”. (Not that this is any kind of political-military war that anyone has fought before).
“War” will not bring back what people have lost. We must do what we can, practically, financially, and spiritually for those people. We have all shed countless tears watching those images, thinking about the families and friends whose loved ones didn’t survive. The fear of never seeing someone you love again is paralyzing.
But there are many people who are now going to be very fearful (especially when they open their papers this morning and the word “War!” is blasted across the front page). Fear will always keep love away, but we need to understand what it is that we are afraid of–often, it is fear itself, the fear of not knowing, not understanding.
I have a different reality, I think, one that I realize will be in a minority here, but probably quite common in Europe. I grew up with two generations whose combined memories of WWII shaped my thinking. My grandmother, of whom I thought this week, who lost her son of 21 yrs (my uncle whom I never met and after whom I am named) after his Spitfire plane was shot down of Crete. He was “missing, presumed dead”, like so many will be after Tuesdays destruction. I think she waited out the remaining 50 years of her life, everyday, hoping (as we witness the people in NY hope) that he was somewhere, that someone found him, that he had amnesia. That he lived. His body, of course, was never found. I heard stories of friends and neighbors whose houses were blown away after nightly air raids, of the woman who lost three sons…three telegrams, one after another, many other stories, each as tragic as the other.
None of this, of course, is to minimize the heroism of the troops from here who also lost their lives in France. But this is a different kind of “war”, and it may last for a very long time. I have heard and read all kinds of things, even, unbelievably, whether we should lob a “limited” (as if there was ever such a thing) nuclear weapon into Afghanistan! My concern lies with the hope that people will try to understand the ramifications of Tuesday and try not to fear the future and shut themselves off to the possibilities of more positive emotions.
I also remember, growing up, in a place rather like Westchester County is to New York, when the IRA bombed the local pub (less than a mile from where we lived) because it was a popular place for off-duty British soldiers to hang out. That war has been fought for over 800 years and continues today. No British soldier looks forward to a tour of duty in Ireland. Yet the IRA is supported, in part, by sympathizers, many in New York.
The word is intensely complex, politics and religion interwoven, like tangled threads into our everyday lives, and never more so than now. What Tuesday showed was that whether we want it or not, we are part of this world.
What do we say to our children? We have to teach them not to fear, yet at the same time allow them to learn as much as possible about the future they face. They need urgent courses in history and geography and world religion and lessons of tolerance, patience, ways of dealing with anger. It helps when you understand something of the hows and whys we got to this point today. That will, of course, depend on who is doing the telling and the perspective he or she offers.
I will read your website. Like a parent in so many ways, you must walk a thin line of preparing people for what we do not exactly know. That in itself is a very hard job.
I wish you all the best, Georgina.
