Nationalism

A fish does not see the water and we do not see the air. It is so part of our environment, so fundamental that we don’t notice it. Like gravity, or the stock market and the effect of the price of a barrel of oil. It is accepted that these are part of our western lives. The rest of the world does not necessarily see it that way.
I was a literally a child at my fathers knee, trying understand what he was teaching in his high school history class. Like any child I was trying to understand the world I lived in, but the concepts were beyond my reach. Why was a revolution in France over a hundred years ago more important than a revolution in the US? We were the super power not them, how could the cheese eating surrender monkeys be mor important. At the time with his infinite patience, he replied simply “Nationalism”.
I am sure that there was an attempt to further explain that I never quite understood. Two decades later, I came to understand. It took stepping out into the water to see how air effected me. I had to go to Iraq in order to understand one of the building blocks of the world I grew up in. Maybe if I had traveled to the third world at a younger age I would have seen it earlier.
In my world the state, the nation was a given, an accepted thing like gravity. Even those who opposed the state wanted to change it, to run it themselves. There are a limited number of exceptions to this, but they are generally considered wing nuts. If I had had the personal experience to process one of my favorite authors I would have understood it. Ralph Peters was trying to explain to the US military in the 1990s that most of the third world does not take nationalism for granted.
Here the tribe, the clan, the religion is takes is the given. A person may want to take the tribe out of the state, but would never consider taking themselves from the tribe. I hope there are brave sociologists and social anthropologists who have a deeper understanding of this and are talking to our leadership.
A few weeks ago I was standing at an Iraqi controlled gate near COB Allalone. It is basically a US Army supplied Pick-n-Pull. A truck leaving did not want to stop. The driver gunned the engine, and the guard got out of the way. The response of my self and the PFC with me was predictable. It was demonstrated in no uncertain terms that to attempt to continue would result in the drivers death. A search of the vehicle revealed that they were trying to steal parts from the yard. This is unimportant.
What is important is that I felt perfectly justified in enforcing the laws of this state and my own: “You do not run check points” The trial and punishment is immediate. The Iraqi guard thanked me for not shooting the man who tried to run him down.
“It would be very bad.” The guard said.
I agreed with him, I would prefer not to shoot someone over stolen truck parts. Then it hit me when I was talking to the man who controlled the lot. It would result in tribal problems, clan problems. The rules of the tribes are more valuable, more important than the rules of the state.
The Iraqi Army paints their flag on everything, they are more compulsive about it than marines with the Eagle Globe and Anchor. This very well may be a deliberate attempt at fostering nationalism in the army. Like putting Napoleon’s eagles at the front of his regiments. Building an identification with the state through a symbol. Is there really that deep of strategy going on here?
The difference between nationalism and a cult of personality is that the image of a person is replaced with the image of a symbol of an idea. It can’t be that simple. Maybe I am over thinking the whole thing, and need to stop listening to philosophy audio books while on patrol and go back to Kim Harrison.

Women

No matter how many women have entered the military it remains a male dominated organization. Why? Too much to go into at this time. Living in this all male sausage fest can be a disorientating. Our medic is female, and the only female in the squad. Watching guys in this environment can be amusing, if you have a sick and twisted sense of humor. We are starved for the female of the species. There is at least two attractive females at the combat stress unit on post. It makes Doc Feelgood’s job easier to get guys to go over there.
You see changes in the soldiers TV and movie watching habits also. We still buy and watch the action flick with big stuff blowing up and a high round count and mortality rate. Then there are movies where a hot actress spends most of the time running around in tight or revealing clothing. (This is how I ended up with five seasons of Alias) But there are also an increase in ‘Chick flicks’.
I find this last trend to be the most interesting as it would seem that it is most prevalent in the younger troops. Is there a need for the softer side of life, maybe a desire to look into a world that is beyond our reach? I really don’t know. I do find that after a long chat with any of my female friends I end up thinking about them long into the next day.
I ended a long term relationship before this trip because I didn’t want the distraction. I have been through the heart aches and pains being married and deployed. This time I walked away clean. Still I find myself enjoying the long conversations with female friends about their relationships and trials. It is a world that is so alien to me as to seem almost like fiction.
The events are no different than they were back home, but I have no frame of reference. My world is so removed from dating, and all things social involving the opposite sex. Maybe it is different in some of the support units that can run up to half female. That, I have heard, brings its own issues.
Like any good grant writer I can only say that this line of thought deserves more investigation. Now if you will excuse me I need to reconsider ordering 7 seasons of Buffy.

A note to the reader

Half of my reason for writing this blog is for my own personal record. This place does funny things to my head. I want an accurate image of where I was and what I was thinking. Therefore I write and post without editing. Going back over the posts, I realize that this leads to more than a few typos. Deal with it. I am however considering going back and maybe tidying some things up.
I think all the readers for not commenting on these not so minor errors. Most of the other reasons have to do with keeping friends and family up to date on how I am doing, as I am really horrible about writing letters. The last bit is probably a desperate cry for attention… but who knows?
For those of you who are not here, but have loved ones here, let me say a few things about letters. Letters are the best way of telling someone that you care. There is something incredibly special about having someone take a piece of their day, put it in an envelope, and sending it to you. There are a few letters that I have that stay in my bag, so I can take them out and read them over and over again. E-mail, VOIP, and chat programs just are not the same.
I was asked by a friend back home about what to write. I thought about it, and finally like many of my best answers, I told them what my dad did. Start with what you did today, then what was going through your mind when you started writing, and finish with your short term plans. A little slice of home. I have heard of this in other words from other sources, but he said it best, and does it the best.
Better than boxes of candies, or care packages, a little piece of home goes a very long way. This by no means should imply that I do not love home baked cookies or hand and foot warmers arriving here. But if someone you care for is over seas, go old school, put pen to paper and drop them a line. If they don’t write back you can gently remind them that they don’t even have to buy stamps.