What Will The Neighbors Think?

During the past week we have all been bombarded, and rightly so, with discussion after discussion on what to do about the dictator of Syria, Assad, using toxic gas on his own people.  One of my earliest memories is of a man who lived in what was then the relatively small community of Chatsworth in the northeast end of the San Fernando Valley in California.  This man was neurologically damaged, couldn’t work, and he and his family had been the recipient of charity until Franklin Roosevelt got Social Security benefits, and veteran benefits through congress.  I remember the discussions in the house about how he and his family really did deserve help because he had been in the army and was gassed in WW I, but that the world had passed treaties saying countries would never do that again.

And here we are again.  I keep thinking that my life is on a merry-go-round.  I came in to this world amid turmoil, and I’m getting closer to the end with the same turmoils, which I foolishly assumed in mid-life had been solved.  Foolish me!!

Regardless of that, last week I stated on this blog that I was glad that I didn’t have to make this decision because I didn’t have enough information to do so.  And I still don’t, but I have had time to reflect on some things.  For starters, Pope Francis, who I am liking better every day, doesn’t think we should bomb Syria; that countries need to stop the violence which threatens to involve other countries, and to ultimately have unintended consequences.  There was much more to his letter, of course, but that is what I took from it for this blog.

It has long seemed to me that when the United States deals with countries, or peoples, of the middle-east, we simply do not take into account their culture, and their way of dealing with problems.  I do not mean to imply that we are right and they are wrong.  It is simply that we approach things from different perspectives.  Since I am not a student of the Arabic or Persian countries, I certainly do not pretend to know how we should.  I have learned over the years, however, how we shouldn’t!

I listened to some of the Senate Committee hearing the other day, and people there talked a lot about whether this was a war, a military intervention or strike, a limited action, and so on.  But it generally meant that air strikes would take place in some manner to degrade the ability of Syria to use these toxic gasses.  I thought about that a lot, and I came to the conclusion that if I were a Syrian, and I were being “bombed” by drones, rockets, or whatever, I would not care two figs whether this was a war, a military strike, a limited action or whatever.  I would know that my family and I were being placed in danger by that big country over there, and heaven forbid that one of them was killed, I would be a permanent enemy of theirs.  Would I know why I was seemingly being targeted?  Would my government explain it all to me from the perspective of that big country over there, or would my government put their own spin on why I was being targeted?

And when enough of us were angry enough, would we then take out our anger on the country that we believed to be closest to them – Israel?  After all, Israel shares a common border with Syria.  What would prevent the Syrians from lobbing a couple of rockets loaded with toxic gasses, probably Sarin, over into Israel?  That would be the most likely target because we are too far away.  And since the Syrians know that we are planning something, the bet is that so are they. 

Using the excuse that me must take some action in Syria because what will other countries think of us if we don’t is puerile in the extreme.  It harkens back to “what will the neighbors think” if we don’t go to church on Sundays, or if we don’t mow the lawn, or if our kids aren’t spotless.  So what does it matter what the neighbors think? What do we think when we look in the mirror every morning?  Do we cringe when we see that craven face, or are our hearts content, knowing we have done the right thing in our own eyes, and we would hope, in God’s eyes, regardless of what the neighbors might think.