Why pick on “anon?”

The New Neo Posted on by

It may seem as though I’ve been picking on “anonymous” lately, by featuring his/her comments in a serious of posts, answering them or dealing with some aspect of them. And you might ask why I’m doing this.

I don’t usually respond to trolls, since I think they thrive on the attention and I have no desire to give them what they crave. Besides, it’s a waste of time to answer a troll, since trolls aren’t interested in the exchange of ideas, they are interested in annoying people and getting them to waste their time posting long exhaustive answers filled with points that can never convince the troll, no matter how persuasive they might be.

But a poster such as “anonymous” is not a troll. I’m not sure what his/her motivation is in posting (or even if it’s always the same person, since he/she is anonymous). But “anonymous” often raises some interesting questions, and whether or not he/she (boy, that formulation gets tiring!) is interested in my answers, I am interested in many of his/her questions or points. They can be used as a springboard to do some research and to air some ideas of my own.

But it occurred to me that part of the reason I’m interested in some of what “anonymous” has to say is that he/she sometimes speaks for my liberal self. Now, my liberal self was never rude or abrasive, as “anonymous” sometimes is (or, as one of them sometimes is?). I was a kinder, gentler version of “anonymous.” Nor was I ever a leftist, so I would never ascribe to some of the more extreme opinions some of the “anonymi” (I’m having trouble finding the plural of the word–help, anyone?) might proffer.

But a question such as the one anonymous posed about why the US didn’t drop the atom bomb in some unpopulated area as a demonstration of its power to see whether Japan would surrender is the sort of question I myself might easily have asked, in all seriousness and with good intentions, just a few short years ago. The difference between then and now is that now I have more information with which to answer it, and more tools such as the internet to research it–and probably, because of 9/11 and its aftermath, more interest in the question itself.

Alternatives to Hiroshima and Nagasaki?

The New Neo Posted on by

In this thread about the decision to drop the atomic bomb, anonymous asks:

Why didn’t they drop a nuke on an unpopulated area and say, ‘See that goddamn horror? We’ll drop another one on your heads in two days if you don’t surrender.’

My post had ended with this quote from Fussell’s article about the atomic bomb, which I think is especially relevant to anonymous’ question:

The past, which as always did not know the future, acted in ways that ask to be imagined before they are condemned. Or even simplified.

Many of those who are critical of the dropping of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombs seem to lack the capacity to understand that those who made the decision were given a certain set of circumstances with which to work. One of those circumstances was a fairly basic one: the US only had two atomic bombs at the time.

Somewhere along the line I had come across this fact, and I wanted to check to see whether my memory was correct. The second article that came up when I Googled “Hiroshima only 2 bombs available” was written by Jamie Glazov, and appeared on August 7, 2001 here, at frontpagemag.com. It contains the answer to anonymous’ question, and more. The article sheds much light on the complex dilemmas facing those who were actually making the decision in real time, and what the obstacles were to alternatives such as the one suggested by anonymous.

I am taking the liberty of printing some longish excerpts from this important article by Glazov:

Many critics, however, have insisted that the U.S. could have devised a way to “demonstrate” the awesome power of the bomb to make the Japanese surrender. For instance, it has been argued that the Americans could have dropped the bomb on some built-up area, after giving notice to the inhabitants to evacuate.

No.

A failure under those crucial circumstances could have done enormous, if not fatal, damage to American credibility. There were only two bombs available at the time, and the actual bomb devices were new and scarcely tested. Americans could not ignore the psychological effect on Japanese leaders if the bomb did not work.

To broadcast a “warning” was to risk the operation in other ways. It would have been child’s play for the Japanese to intercept an incoming airplane, especially if they knew where and when it was expected.

Truman and his officials agonized over the fact that the Japanese could end such an endeavor altogether by placing American POWs into the “announced” target area. The Japanese had, after all, given the order to kill all POWs once an invasion of the islands began.

In pursuit of their anti-American odyssey, critics have also alleged that a “tactical strike” could have been carried through. In other words, the bomb could have been dropped on a purely military target, an arsenal or a harbor, and without advance notice. They have also theorized that the bomb could have been dropped, without advance warning, over a relatively uninhabited stretch of Japanese territory where the Japanese high command could witness it first hand, and would, therefore, finally accept the futility of their struggle.

There were, even at that time, many suggestions that advocated an explosion at night over Tokyo Bay, which might have served as a satisfactory example. Still another alternative proposed that the bomb could be detonated not on Japan but in some remote corner of the world, and that this would have been enough to scare the Japanese.

First, all of these scenarios imply that the Americans were dealing with a sane Japanese leadership. That was not the case.

Second, no known military target had a wide enough compass to contain the total destructive capacity of the bomb ”“ and to allow it to show what it was capable of doing.

No one could suggest, or even be sure, of a way in which the bomb could be used in so convincing a manner that it would frighten a leadership that worshiped “death before dishonor.” The very idea of “demonstrating” the bomb ran counter to its very purpose: to shock the Japanese out of their faith that dying in war was a noble enterprise.

Not even the scientists who made the atomic bombs were fully certain about the destructive potential of the bomb and its radioactive fall-outs. A test in a remote area, therefore, even if successful, could prove useless. It would be done on neutral soil and the Japanese could think it was a fake, accomplished with a massive amount of ordinary TNT. In addition, the Truman administration feared that advance notice of this kind of demonstration would simply give the Japanese too much useful information.

In May 1945, four distinguished physicists who served as advisers to the interim committee met in Los Alamos to consider the proposed “demonstration” theories. They were Arthur H. Compton, Enrico Fermi, Ernest Lawrence and Robert Oppenheimer. After the meeting they concluded: “We can propose no technical demonstration likely to bring an end to the war; we see no acceptable alternative to direct military use.”

Terrorists and their Western apologists–therapists hatch some theories

The New Neo Posted on by

Roger Simon recently linked to this essay by Dr. Robert Harman, which attempts to analyze terrorists and our reaction to them, and in particular the symbiotic psychological connection between terrorists and their Western apologists.

Dr Harman is an orgonomist. Huh, you say? What’s an orgonomist? “Orgonomist,” as in Reich’s “orgone box,” one of those branches of psychoanalysis that seems to have made a sharp turn and plunged into extreme eccentricity quite some time ago.

But orgonomy is apparently alive and well and living in Princeton, New Jersey. I can’t quite figure out what orgonomists really do at this point, or whether they’ve jettisoned the orgone box (as far as I can decipher from the website, they have, thankfully). I’d never even heard of the American College of Orgonomy before, but its members appear to be bona fide psychiatrists who attempt to integrate some aspects of body dynamics into their practice of psychotherapy. For some reason, part of orgonomic theory seems to be to delve rather deeply into the political, which is extremely unusual for a psychotherapeutic discipline. (See, for example, this article analyzing the phenomenon of liberalism, written almost half a century ago by a leading orgonomist.)

In light of this history of a political focus on the part of orgonomists, it’s not so strange after all that Dr. Harman was able to write his article only a month and a half after the events of 9/11. Apparently he’d already been thinking about these sorts of questions for quite a while.

Harman doesn’t really pick up steam until the second half of the essay, the part that is subtitled “Who Are They?” and the sections that follow it. He sees the relationship between terrorists and their liberal apologists as an almost-perfect sadomasochistic symbiosis. The following excerpt contains the heart of his message on the subject:

…when his nation is attacked, the normally decent, true liberal is at risk for having the following masochistic reaction, particularly under the influence of vocal pseudo-liberals who occupy opinion-making positions (academia, the clergy, the media, etc.):
He will criticize and may even blame his own nation.
He will develop a guilt-ridden or anxious desire to “solve” the problem by being nicer to those who might hate or dislike his country.
He will elaborate various disaster scenarios which he fears will occur if force is used aggressively. Usually the imagined disaster is a variation of “it will only make them hate us even more” or a feared dramatic escalation of violence which we will not have the will or the strength (so the liberal believes) to handle.
He fears that his nation and its leaders (especially if they are not liberals) are stupid and clumsy, and he may insist on replacing a directly aggressive defense with half-hearted responses which actually would be clumsy and ineffective.

This type of masochistic reaction only increases the sadism of the terrorist, leading to new attacks which further increase the masochistic response, and so on in a vicious cycle. The September 11th attacks were the culmination of a decade of such a cycle of sadomasochistic interaction.

I think the most remarkable thing about this passage (other than the fact that it was written by an orgonomist), is that it was delivered at a conference on Oct. 21, 2001. At that relatively early date, Harman seems to have understood exactly what would be the ensuing liberal/leftist reaction, although it really hadn’t developed yet.

Another fascinating observation by Harman is his discussion of the linkage between fanatics on the far left and those on the far right (what he refers to as “red” and “black” fascists, respectively):

…there is often a synergistic relationship between black and red fascism…The red fascist is incapable of expressing his aggression in a gut level way and of communicating a high, sustained emotional charge, thus he admires the black fascist’s ability to do these things…the black fascist expresses himself emotionally, sometimes in a nearly incoherent way. This can be seen in some of Osama Bin Ladin’s speeches and in Hitler’s diplomatic communiqués, which are emotionally charged, but don’t hold together logically. Thus the black fascist benefits from the red fascist’s ability to use logical arguments to persuade liberals into immobilizing any nation’s effort to forcefully oppose the black fascist’s aggression. Eventually the red fascist and the black fascist will turn on each other and one or the other will prevail, but they are temporarily united as one in their hatred of life. This is seen today in the synergistic action of the covert hatred of America on the part of the pseudo-liberal and the overt hatred of America on the part of the Islamic fanatic…

Since this was written in October of 2001, I would say that Harman ought to get some sort award for prescience, although of course his prescience is based on the study of history. This cooperation between far right and far left is precisely what has come to pass; the two work as a sort of tag team. The Islamofascists provide the emotionally aggressive “juice” and the leftist apologists supply the “logical” arguments designed to lead Western nations to appeasement, attempting to cause effective action against the Islamofascists to be blocked and immobilized.

The fact that Islamofascists stand for everything the far left is ostensibly against–persecution of women and gays, just to take two obvious examples–has been a puzzlement in endeavoring to understand why it is that leftists seem nevertheless to ally with them. But Harman doesn’t look at this alliance in political terms, so he sees no contradiction in it. Instead, he sees the politics as a sort of nearly-irrelevant screen, an excuse for the deeper emotional interactions that drive the whole engine. The sadist and the masochist are pulled together by ties stronger than logic or politics, and the wimpy intellectual worships the angry thug who acts as his/her bold and rageful surrogate.

To find a good example, one can see this dynamic working most clearly and nakedly in the writings of British leftist journalist Robert Fisk. In his famous Afghan beating article, (dating from December, 2001, months after Harman’s observations) Fisk writes:

They started by shaking hands. We said “Salaam aleikum” ”“ peace be upon you ”“ then the first pebbles flew past my face. A small boy tried to grab my bag. Then another. Then someone punched me in the back. Then young men broke my glasses, began smashing stones into my face and head. I couldn’t see for the blood pouring down my forehead and swamping my eyes. And even then, I understood. I couldn’t blame them for what they were doing. In fact, if I were the Afghan refugees of Kila Abdullah, close to the Afghan-Pakistan border, I would have done just the same to Robert Fisk. Or any other Westerner I could find.

As a psychiatrist, Harman thinks in terms of individual psychology. As a family therapist, I don’t ordinarily think that way, although I do understand such terms and believe his analysis to be a good one. But if I had to come up with a simple explanation for the behavior of so many liberals or leftists who make excuses for terrorists, I would describe it differently.

I think there is a similarity to the attitude of many abused children who blame themselves for the abusive actions of their parents. Children believe in an ordered and just world. It may seem paradoxical, but for most abused children it is less threatening and terrifying to see themselves as the guilty ones, and to believe that their abusive parents are punishing them for a good reason, than to know that the world is a place in which parents can be irrationally abusive towards their own innocent children. Part of the work of therapy with such children (even after they’ve grown up) is to convince them that they themselves were/are not evil and deserving of the abuse.

I think that, in a similar way, most liberals and even some leftists like to believe that the world is a just and sane place, and that people are rational actors–particularly people in third-world countries (the actions of the “evil” US and Israel are often excluded from this benign formulation). If such people are out to get us, it’s merely because we have done something to them that has made us deserve it. The reasoning is similar to that of the aforementioned abused child.

There is a tremendous power inherent in such a formulation, although it is a hidden sort of power. For the child, it means that he/she is in some sort of control, rather than at the mercy of a powerful, irrational, and cruel person–his abusing parent. After all, if the child’s behavior is the reason for the abuse, than the child can stop the abuse, if only he/she can identify that key behavior and change it. It resets the locus of control and puts it back in the child–although only theoretically (in fact, it is an impossible dream of the child, and cannot be accomplished).

A similar dynamic is true of many of the liberals and leftists who blame our actions for the behavior of terrorists. Terrorists are frightening, cruel, violent, unpredictable. Anyone could be a target at any time. But if we say that they are only reacting to things that we ourselves are doing, things we could easily change if we wanted to, then the locus of control goes back to us, and the world is a far less scary and far more ordered place.

(ADDENDUM 8/8/05, 9:15 PM: Welcome, Instapundit and Roger Simon readers! If you’re a glutton for punishment and interested in reading a few more of my long-winded tomes, go to the heart of this blog–its raison d’etre, as it were. Scroll down on the right sidebar to find the links under the title, “A mind is a difficult thing to change.” It’s a series about the formation of a political identity, and the process of changing one’s mind politically.)

A question for techies (not that I’ll necessarily understand the answer)

The New Neo Posted on by

I have a computer question for all you techies out there: my sitecounter has unaccountably disappeared from my blog. Actually, it’s not disappeared–it still works when I log onto it–but it seems to be invisible to others.

I originally set it up so that the details would be private, but the main number of visitors used to show on an icon on the main page of my blog, and visitors could see my traffic count. It was working fine and then, about a month or two ago it suddenly disappeared, apropos of nothing I can think of.

Any suggestions on how to restore it? I’ve tried reinstalling the code on my template, but no dice. Thanks! And remember, keep all answers as simple as possible for the technically challenged author of this blog.

Update on my mother

The New Neo Posted on by

I want to thank everyone whose good wishes and prayers have gone out to my mother in her illness.

I haven’t been over there yet today, but the update on my mother is that there’s been some improvement, although there’s still a long way to go. By “improvement” I mean in body mostly, but a little bit in mind and spirit, also. My mother is still so far from where she wants to be that it’s hard for her to credit that she has made progress, but she is starting to acknowledge that every now and then, too. If one wants to walk under one’s own steam (and who doesn’t?) it’s awfully hard to be happy that one has managed to move a leg a few inches more than one could a week ago. But, of such moves are steps ultimately made.

I myself had arm surgery six years ago–I think six years ago today, although I no longer remember the exact date. It was an ulnar nerve transfer, a peculiar and nasty sort of surgery that is most commonly undergone by baseball players, of which I most decidedly am not one. Afterwards, my elbow unaccountably froze, and stayed there for some time.

Even the physical therapists (in this case, occupational therapists, because they’re in charge of the lower arm) were perplexed. This sort of freezing doesn’t usually happen, or rather, if it does, it usually responds to exercises. Mine did not.

My personal opinion, in retrospect, is that this happened to me because, according to the surgeons, they had to do a more extensive surgery than usual and were forced to sever a lot of other nerves that had become tangled up in the first one. At any rate, I could see the puzzlement on the face of the therapists–something you don’t ever want to see–and then their frustration with me, the patient who was unaccountably not getting better. Certainly wasn’t their fault, so it had to be mine.

The main therapist I had was quite cold and dismissive. She kept telling me to do more and more stretching and pulling at that arm–the regimen she ultimately had me on would have taken about five hours a day, had I actually been able to do it. But I couldn’t; my arm and body would not cooperate. I did what I could, which was quite a bit, and still, nothing was happening. The arm wasn’t budging, and it felt worse and worse.

Finally, I changed locations and therapists. The new one was just as puzzled, but not as frustrated. She conveyed a sense of calm, telling me that if this didn’t work, she’d try that, and then that, and then still another thing, till she found something that did work.

The first thing she did was to evaluate the exercises I was already doing. “The problem is,” she said immediately on seeing me go through my paces, “that you’re stretching everything in the same plane. You need to vary it more.” And then she gave me fewer stretches to do, so I wouldn’t be so exhausted and it would be less traumatic to the arm, but ones that were varied in terms of direction.

Within a day or two the frozen elbow began to thaw. Not quickly, but slowly, in tiny increments. But it was progress I could see. I was delighted. Within a couple of months the thing was moving–if not freely, then well enough.

It took about three years for the nerve to heal. It’s not perfect, but it’s okay. And the moral of the story? Don’t give up, but don’t keep stubbornly going on when something is clearly counterproductive. Sometimes less is more, and new approaches to the same problem can solve what had heretofore seemed insurmountable.

It’s about time: common sense prevails in Britain

The New Neo Posted on by

Too bad it took the death of 52 people to do it, but this announcement seems to be nothing more than simple common sense. As Tony Blair put it, without his usual eloquence:

“They come here and they play by our rules and our way of life,” Blair said at his monthly news conference. “If they don’t, they are going to have to go.”

So, foreigners who preach hated or sponsor violence can be deported after a hearing. As usual, those who would be affected by such a ruling are planning to fight back, using the justice system of their host country the better to allow themselves to feed off that system and perhaps to destroy it:

A spokesman for Hizb ut Tahrir Britain, Imran Waheed, said Blair’s comments were “most unjust,” and the group would fight any ban through the courts.

Somehow, I don’t think they will succeed this time in getting the courts to assist the government in committing suicide. As the old saying goes: the Constitution is not a suicide pact. In Britain, the same could be said of the legal system and its human rights protections.

(NOTE: Is my spellcheck psychic? It wanted me to replace the name “Tahrir” with the word “terror.”)

Choices among crazinesses

The New Neo Posted on by

Both Austin Bay and Clive Davis recently cited
this famous essay by literary critic Paul Fussell in their posts on the 60th anniversary of the dropping of the atomic bomb.

I had read Fussell’s 1988 essay, provocatively titled “God Bless the Atomic Bomb,” years ago. But this recommendation by two bloggers I admire and respect made me go back and read it again. And, as with so many things I’ve read post-9/11, I find it seems to have more depth and relevance than ever.

Fussell is a WWII combat veteran himself, which gives his work a perspective not often found among literary critics, especially literary critics today. Or course, in WWII, even literary critics (or literary critics-to-be) were not immune from serving. Read the whole thing–it’s not only thoughtful, but extremely well-written. Fussell is not one to pull his punches.

I’m not familiar with most of Fussell’s work, but I did read his masterpiece The Great War and Modern Memory when it first came out in the mid-70s. It’s about World War I as seen through the prism of the literature of the times. Apparently, even long before I became a neocon, I must have been interested in the topic of war–particularly World War I, the neglected war as far as my history courses were concerned.

We had always spent a great deal of study on the early history of the US up to the Civil War, and then somehow ran out of time when we got to the twentieth century. So WWI was reduced to a couple of battles and then the Armistice, and memorizing “In Flanders Fields.” I had no real indication of the extent of the destruction wrought during that war, not only to human life, but to the way of life and thinking that preceded the war. Many, in fact, judge that the modern era really dates from that war.

I came to this interest in WWI obliquely, through the mechanism of literature. Somewhere along the way I had encountered a quote from author Henry James that grabbed my attention and seemed to contain a mystery (I no longer have the quote, unfortunately). It was, as best I can recall, from his diary, and it expressed the idea that WWI had caused him to totally revise his notion of what the previous decades had actually been about. The idea of history as a progression forward and upwards, of things leading slowly but inexorably to a better and more civilized world, was one he had apparently held until the utter shock of WWI changed everything for him and plunged him into despair.

James took ill not long after the war began, and he died in 1916, before the war was concluded. Post-WWI, though, it seems that James had suffered a profound disillusionment and reorganization of his worldview not unlike that which began with the events of 9/11 for many of us today.

James’s reaction was shared by many people who witnessed WWI, one of the main themes of Fussell’s excellent book. It was the James quote that had introduced me to that phenomenon, and Fussell’s book was my first exposure to the watershed nature of WWI. Through the device of looking at the literature of the years immediately preceding the War and comparing it to that during the war (particularly the marvelous poetry–by which I don’t mean the ubiquitous “In Flanders Fields”), Fussell draws a picture of how–especially for the generation coming of age at that time–“everything changed” during that war.

One of the writers Fussell features is Wilfred Owen, a brilliant young poet who was an officer in WWI and was killed, ironically, just a week before the Armistice. If you’re not familiar with the poetry of Wilfred Owen, nearly all of it set in WWI, please take a look. He focuses on the pain and horror of the human suffering of war, much as John Hershey did in Hiroshima, without going into the context of that suffering. So, Owen doesn’t discuss politics at all–the “brutal calculus” of war is not his topic. The human costs are, and he is one who knows them all too well, and paid them himself in full measure.

Here is an especially telling excerpt from Fussell’s atom bomb essay, about the brutal calculus of WWII as opposed to WWI, and particularly the decision to drop the bomb. But it applies to all decisions in all wars:

Lord Louis Mountbatten, trying to say something sensible about the dropping of the A-bomb, came up only with “War is crazy.” Or rather, it requires choices among crazinesses. “It would seem even more crazy,” he went on, “if we were to have more casualties on our side to save the Japanese…”

“Choices among crazinesses”–exactly. And not all crazinesses are equal. Some, although awful and crazy, are better than others, more awful and more crazy still.

The final words of Fussell’s fine essay are particularly memorable. They are a general guide to judging history itself, and those who make the weighty and difficult decisions that help determine its course:

The past, which as always did not know the future, acted in ways that ask to be imagined before they are condemned. Or even simplified.”

Who are the Israelis opposing the security fence?

The New Neo Posted on by

Well, it seems that another anonymous comment has piqued my interest. I don’t know whether it’s the same “anonymous” or a different one than before, or whether there’s just something inherently special about those anonymous commenters.

Here it is, on this thread:

At 3:40 PM, Anonymous said…

Just out of curiosity, if it is anti-semitic or anti-Israel to ask Israel to get rid of the fence/wall, what does that make the millions of Israelis who want the same?

(By the way, I was asserting that it was not necessarily anti-Semitic to be against the wall; there were other commenters claiming that it was.)

Here’s my attempt at an answer to the question “what does that make the millions [sic] of Israelis who want the same?”:

The short version

Try any of the following:

1) Ultra-orthodox ultra-religious Jews

2) Leftists

3) Arabs

4) self-hating anti-Semitic Jews

5) suicidal

The long version

I’m not sure where you got the idea that there are millions of Israelis who want to get rid of the security fence. First, take a look at these population figures, from 2003. The entire population of Israel is 6.7 million, but 1.3 million of them are Arab Israelis. The Jewish population of Israel is 5.4 million.

Now, take a look at the results of polls conducted in March of 2004 on the security fence, as reported in the left-leaning Israeli newspaper Ha’aretz . You will note that there is an almost-unheard-of degree of near-unanimity in the opinions of Jewish Israelis on the security fence: 84% support it and 13% oppose it.

The thirteen percent of the Jewish population of Israel (5.4 million) opposing the fence would therefore number about 700,000. This is not the “millions” of which you speak, but it is indeed a sizeable number (the only way you could get a figure of over a million is to include the Arab Israelis, but I’m assuming that’s not what you had in mind, or you wouldn’t have asked the question).

Who are these Jewish Israelis who oppose the fence? As far as we can tell from the article, they appear to be mainly members of the following Israeli parties: National Union, the National Religious Party (NRP), Shas, and Meretz. Although the majority of the members of these parties still support the fence, the percentages of supporters are much smaller than in the rest of the population.

Who are these parties? All but Meretz would fit answer (1), ultra-Orthodox ultra-religious Jews. As such, they support the settlements. Several of these parties are against the establishment of a Palestinian state and are for the transfer of Palestinians out of much of the occupied (or, more rightly, the disputed) territories. Therefore, they are for the expansion of Israel’s borders beyond those of the present fence. This may be a key to what is behind the opposition to the fence of a sizeable percentage of the membership of these parties. The parties officially support the fence, but my guess is that those individuals in these parties who are against the fence are probably against it because it doesn’t go far enough, not because it goes too far, and because it is being combined with the dismantling of most of the settlements.

Meretz is a different case, and would fit answer (2), leftists. It is a left-wing party that supports the “peace process” and even accepts a divided Jerusalem, and considers the settlements the main obstacles to peace. My guess is that they feel the wall upsets the Palestinian economy too much, and is a setback to the fabled peace process.

As for answer (3), Arabs, see this:

In the Arab sector, in contrast to the Jewish population, there is wide opposition to the separation fence, the prevalent view being that it will not help reduce terror. Similarly, most believe that in determining the route, great weight should be given to the suffering caused to the Palestinian population and not to security considerations of the government.

So, although exact figures are not given, it appears that the majority of Israeli Arabs are opposed to the fence.

Answers (4) and (5) are difficult to quantify, but my guess is that they represent some unknown but not insignificant portion of Israelis opposed to the fence.

During my research for this post, I found a passage that explains the security fence and the philosophy behind it in a novel way, suggesting that it could more rightly be called a “peace wall.” (Perhaps the new nomenclature would make it more attractive to leftists: “All we are saying, is give the peace wall a chance?”):

According to Matti Golan, however, writing in Tel Aviv’s financial Globes (Sept. 10, 2003), the security-, separation-, anti-terror fence, however one wants to refer to it, is actually a peace wall. “The fence would be better named the ‘security and peace fence.’ It should already be obvious that the only chance for a peace agreement with the Palestinians, if there is any chance at all, lies in them being unable to hurt us. So long as they can hurt us, there will be those among them who will try. The harder it becomes for them to kill us, the weaker will be their resistance to an agreement. In other words, the fence will not only enhance security, it will improve the chance for peace….To the Palestinians who claim the fence will harm the peace process, we must tell the truth: The opposite is the case. The fence will only help the Palestinians who truly want peace, by thwarting those who do not want peace.”

Hope that answers your question, anonymous.

Another “change” post is beginning to percolate

The New Neo Posted on by

I’m starting to rev up for the next post in the “A mind is a difficult thing to change” series. This is the one that will deal with 9/11.

I find it helps to make a public declaration of intent. That way I force myself to start working on it and not procrastinate so much.

I make no promises, though, about when it’s actually coming. I know myself better than that. So, one of these days…

“Remarkable” is right

The New Neo Posted on by

I was at a friend’s house yesterday evening when he turned on the television and I heard the ominous words, “An Air France flight with 309 people aboard crashed…” and my whole body immediately braced, expecting bad bad news.

But the news wasn’t very bad at all. As this AP article rightly states, it was remarkable. And so I’m remarking on it. A series of terrible calamities hit this airplane, and somehow there were only a few minor injuries.

A bit less remarkable–but remarkable nevertheless–is the lead sentence in the AP article. It reads like one of those contests New York magazine used to feature, in which the reader tries to submit a ridiculous run-on sentence that could be the plot of an over-the-top disaster movie:

A jetliner carrying 309 people skidded off a runway while landing in a thunderstorm Tuesday, sliding into a ravine and breaking into pieces, but remarkably everyone aboard survived by jumping to safety in the moments before the plane burst into flames.

These people are either very lucky, or the crew and flight attendants on board the plane deserve a medal. Or perhaps both.

Hiroshima anniversary: what might have been

The New Neo Posted on by

A few days from now will be the sixtieth anniversary of the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima. The rightness of that decision is still being vigorously debated.

Here’s an article from the Weekly Standard (hat tip: Austin Bay) countering the argument that the bombing was unnecessary because Japan was about to surrender anyway. It makes a fairly convincing case that intelligence of the time actually indicated that the opposite was true.

I grew up in the immediate postwar years with the knowledge of our dropping of the atomic bomb. As I’ve already written, fear of nuclear war colored the childhood of most in my generation. That fear wasn’t simply a fear of the Soviets and what they might do; it was also a fear of what America had already done.

I was very young–perhaps twelve or so–when I read the book Hiroshima by John Hersey. It terrified and sickened me. The descriptions of the suffering of the innocent residents of the city, going about their business on a summer day and either instantly incinerated or subject to horrific injuries and sights out of a Bosch painting, were nearly unendurable even in the reading. Multiplied in my mind’s eye by many tens of thousands similarly suffering, they created a symphony of agony that reached such a crescendo it threatened to overwhelm me for a time.

Hersey’s book purposely gives his reportage on Hiroshima no context at all, the better to appreciate the appalling human cost. He simply describes, and the reader identifies with the victims. There is no way to read his book and not feel a deep and visceral revulsion towards what happened there. Even learning (and believing) the justification for the bombing can never do away with the knowledge that the human cost was profound and almost unimaginable.

Hiroshima is an event of such huge significance that it is easy to lose sight of the fact that it must be weighed against the most likely alternatives. But it seems almost obscene to do so in light of what actually happened there. How, in the balance of the scales, can such an overwhelmingly heavy reality be weighed against a projected alternative? The preponderance of the evidence now seems to argue that, without the bomb, the carnage would have been far worse. Projections are only best guesses, though; they can never be proven to have been inevitable.

So how can we judge that a projected alternative is worse than those horrors that we know actually did happen? The answer is that it takes a great deal of imagination to do so; the flesh-and-blood realities of Hershey’s book are so vivid that they tend to block out all those other deaths that didn’t happen but probably would have.

From my reading on the subject up to this point, I believe that the use of the bomb did in fact prevent far more deaths than not using it. But it’s hard to wrap my mind around this fact; hard to know it. As I wrote here:

It is so very easy to criticize what is, what has actually been done. The resultant faults and flaws are right before our eyes. The world will always be imperfect; each action will create its own problems. But the even worse (perhaps far worse) things that might have happened but for those actions–those always remain invisible and unknowable, and can only be guessed at.

There’s another aspect to criticism of the decision to drop the bomb on Hiroshima, one that applies to many of those on the left who also have criticized our involvement in Iraq: they believe that the most important thing is to keep our (read: their) hands clean. Sins of commission are judged far more harshly than sins of omission for that reason. The deaths we cause (for whatever reasons, even primarily defensive ones) are considered far greater crimes than the deaths someone else would most likely have caused had we not done what we did. To a person with such a mindset, nothing could ever have justified being the agent of the suffering Hershey described, not even the prevention of far greater suffering.

[ADDENDUM: for further thoughts of mine on the subject of Hiroshima, see this and this.]

A personal note

The New Neo Posted on by

I don’t usually write about events in my purely personal, non-political life, but I’m going to make an exception.

Towards the end of my recent visit to California, my ninety-one-year-old mother had a stroke. Even though she is ninety-one, this was totally unexpected, as she was in vigorous good health and had a blood pressure a twenty-year-old might envy. Nevertheless, it happened.

My brother and sister-in-law raced up to be with her when we learned about it, and I came back from California the next day.

Although it had been explained to me that my mother was very weak on her left side, it was still a shock to see her debility and dependence. She has so rarely been ill that I can hardly remember another time, and she has never even sustained any sort of real injury in a long and active life. Much to be grateful for, of course, but her history had also lulled us all into a false sense of security.

But it never lulled her. Throughout her life her nemesis has been her fear and anxiety about illness and disability, and she never for a moment felt secure in her own good health.

Her luck had held out so long; perhaps it will end up holding out again and she’ll make a decent recovery, as the doctors and physical therapists say she indeed might. But her strong suit—and she has many—was never optimism, especially about illness. At the moment, she’s not buying into it.

I go back to her apartment at the beautiful independent living facility where, until a little more than a week ago, she had happily lived. I have to get clothing, supplies, mail, that sort of thing. Walking in, it feels almost like paradise compared to the rehab facility which now constitutes her world (she continues to call it a nursing home, I continue to tell her it’s a rehab facility; a little war of words, the goal of which is to get her to think of it as a place to get better rather than a warehouse for the disabled). It is so sad, though, to see her apartment, so orderly, an order and routine which had made her feel safe, a safety that is now totally and utterly disrupted. It’s hard to see the bathroom with its wrinkle cream and makeup (reminding me of my explorations in early adolescence into the secret world of women’s primping when I used to experiment with all her stuff); the invitation to the special lobster dinner in two weeks; the smiling photos, the book on techniques to avoid falling.

Her fears—and ours—are many. There is a great deal of indignity, too, despite the fact that she is in one of the best facilities of its type. Sometimes I want to shake the attendants for the condescending and infantilizing attitude they display at times, even though I understand it—and say, “How dare you? You don’t know her—she’s a person of wit and joie de vivre—everyone admires her as a great old person—two weeks ago that’s who she was—when I left for California that’s who she was.” That’s who she still is, when she puts her hearing aids in enough to hear properly, and when her anxiety goes down enough to let her personality shine through again. I hope and trust that’s who she will be more and more as time goes on and physical improvement occurs.

And how upset she is to bother and burden me! Over and over, my mother apologizes to me for this—it’s exactly and precisely what she didn’t want to happen. I just tell her I’m okay, not to think about that. When the doctor asked her whether she was depressed, she said, “If I wasn’t depressed I’d be crazy!”

My mother is very lucky in her roommate (yes, in addition to all the other adjustments, one must adjust to living with a stranger and the constant visits from that stranger’s family). The woman in the other bed in her room is ninety-seven years old and totally lucid. She is one of those elderly people who is almost luminous, a great beauty with a sort of radiance and light that seems to emanate from her. Her family is for the most part quiet, and they bring incredibly beautiful bouquets of flowers from their gardens.

This woman is a great patient, too; unlike my mother, she is very patient. As my mother herself says, patience was never her strong suit. That makes it very difficult, because right now it is what is required.

So, how to engender hope in the hopeless? Why is my mother having to learn this hard lesson now, of patience and of hope, when she is so elderly and debilitated? Will she be able to learn it?