Mac-Coleman

30 August 2011 –

Well, it has been too long since my last muse. I am at odds with myself about writing every day. I tell myself that I don’t want to become the geeky rat who relies on the artificial light from the computer screen as his sole energy source. Even the Houston’s searing summer sun is preferable to the constant glow of electrons running across a screen. On the other hand, many things simply cannot move past me without some comment. So, after nearly two months of absence, here I am. I am not asking for any welcome back feedback. In fact, you should be shooting hoops, exercising to a zumba tape, or working in the garden if you are not at work. If you are at work, be about it and read this some other time.

Anyway, We went to family weddings and reunions in early August. In late August, we went to Europe for a military attaché reunion hosted by the Serbian defense attaché to Beijing, China. He served in that position while I was there in my position as the U.S. air attaché to Beijing. About thirty of us, including wives, were in Belgrade for four days of events, food, and more food. Then, my wife and I drove to Prague, Vienna, Bratislava, and then Budapest. All travel was uneventful. Everything was beautiful.

A couple of thoughts on the trip are worth a muse.

On the first evening, we met in the Serbian Army Headquarters and had a small reception and dinner. The brittleness of the separation exploded as does the morning frost when the late summer sunrise bursts over the Rocky Mountains. We were friends again and still. Friends from different countries and cultures who shared—yeah, still share—a common bond of military professionalism and righteous principles. Before dessert, I stood and toasted the group. I first told them that my wife and I were commenting over dinner on how comfortable and normal we feel with them as our friends, far more normal than living in our new home in Houston, Texas. That got a laugh because the rest of the world knows that Texas is a “special” part of the U.S.

I then held my water glass high and repeated a toast I have used only twice before: “May our enemies always fear us. May our wives always kiss us. And, may our flags always fly on the same side of the battlefield”. They roared their approval. We were together again.

I wish I could create such camaraderie, trust, and commitment one to another in other venues in life. Winning battles and wars, succeeding when others predict failure, being the last ones standing on the smoldering battlefield, all are the results of a group so close. We as a culture and nation know how to build such groups. It is a sublime privilege to have been counted among such a team while I served in uniform. Nothing short of belief in God and love for one’s family is as sacred a commitment.

Alas, such magnificent teams are so often frittered away on the battlefield for pitiable politics and selfish, ill-thought-out strategies and goals. It is no surprise that an officer’s loyalty often ends up for the team and not necessarily for the political masters whose bidding it performs. Nonetheless, it is part of being an officer to stay loyal to one’s nation, to display adherence to the principles of professional officership, and to not succumb to the cult of the warrior—as tempting as it might be. Maybe it is easier to espouse loyalty to country and to principle over loyalty to the team as the vitality of youth wanes. Still, the words of Frederick Forsyth’s character in his 1974 book, The Dogs of War, waft through my mind; “Vie la Mort! Vive la Guerre! Vive le sacré Mercenaire!”

I had a marvelous exchange with a general officer from Africa about Islam, jihad, and terrorism. He and his wife are Moslem and were observing Ramadan during the reunion. It happened to be the hottest summer on record for much of Central Europe, so it was difficult for them to participate in our daytime activities and still fast from food and water. However, our nighttime cruise on the Danube and dinners gave us good opportunities to spend time together and to discuss things.

A kind and gentle man, he asked me bluntly what Americans thought of his country. I answered bluntly that most Americans couldn’t find his country on a map, let alone have an opinion of it. I tempered my first comment by adding that most Americans can’t name all the states of their country on a map either. I further said that if Americans know anything about his country, it is that the country has oil. Only one out of thousand would know that there is great tension between the more affluent animists and Christians in the oil producing areas and the poorer Moslems in the drier parts of the country. As well, the country’s population of nearly 155 million gives it conditions and problems that cannot be as easily solved or mitigated as they can in smaller countries. I then said that the ongoing strife between Moslems and others, particularly the ongoing suicide attacks by Moslems against government and other institutions, does not help the Moslem image in the U.S. Islam is not well received as a minority in a western culture that has already adjusted to secular and religious separation in government and has a concept of tolerance quite different than what is defined in Islam (my ability to capsulize all that into a few sentences surprised me).

My friend listened attentively and then asked me what I personally thought of the conflict between Islam and the West. I thought for a moment and again responded bluntly: What I think of Islam and its violence within itself and toward the west isn’t really pertinent to resolving or mitigating problems. What matters is what he thinks about the violence and the yawning gaps between western culture and that of Islam. I explained that I am an outsider to Islam. I always will be an outsider. Therefore, anything I say or demand isn’t going to resolve or improve anything on the inside of Islam. Violence in Islam, among its sects, and that toward western nations such as the United States, is a problem for Islam, even more than it is for the rest of the world. If the issues and conditions that cause the violence are not addressed adequately within Islam, then there will always be strife with the west and with other outside parties. These latter parties will feel compelled to protect themselves, often aggressively, when threatened. All will lose, but given the current power structure in the world, the biggest loser will be Islam.

My friend quickly countered that Islam is a religion of peace. I also accepted that ideal. I said that I have read chapter 36 of the Koran, the heart of the Koran, where it extolls peace. However, if whatever the Koran or its Hadith commentary says about peace cannot be sufficiently displayed by those who are accepted as adherents, then the holy words have little legitimacy in the outside world. Again, it is not the outside world that has to fix the problem of violence. It is the Umma, or the Moslem community itself. Educated, urbane, and good men like my friend. If not, the Islamic community will continue to suffer more from the paradox of internal peace and violence than will others. My friend had no answer. I doubt if there is one until there is more bloodshed.

Finally, we had a tour of a Serbian aeronautical museum near the international airport in Belgrade. There were all sorts of aircraft dating back to before World War One. There was even the MiG-21 fighter that our host had flown for some of his career in the Yugoslav and then the Serbian Air Force. It was quite a display of the 20^th century aeronautic history of central Europe.

Also displayed in the museum was a piece of the tail and the cockpit canopy of an F-16 (from the 555^th Fighter Squadron in Aviano AB, Italy) that was shot down over Serbia during the conflict over Kosovo in 1999. As well, there were pieces of the cockpit and engines of an F-117 that was shot down during the same conflict. The canopy rail still displayed the name of the American pilot who was flying the aircraft. What a feeling to see such remnants of a stupid war.

Only twelve years ago, the US started a war to force Serbia to allow Kosovo, a southern province whose population is overwhelmingly Moslem, to break off and eventually become an independent nation. The war was brazen aggression by the United States that resulted in both good and bad. Good that it probably hastened the downfall of Slobovan Milosovice and the roundup of the warlords who butchered so many Moslems and Croats in Bosnia and elsewhere during the wars of the 1990s. Serbia is now on the verge of entering the European Union. Bad in that it forced a process that probably was going to happen anyway and left a bitter taste in the mouth of the people that the U.S. needs as staunch allies in the Balkans: the Serbs. For what? The creation and recognition of a Moslem country that doesn’t like the United States anyway. I wonder if helping people who don’t like you to begin with is another foolish errand. Winning the hearts and minds of the people is not an easy thing to do. It is rarely successful, especially from the outside.

It is good to be home.