History and a Small Request

THE HISTORY:
Eid Mubarak! For those of you who fasted, congratulations. I have neither the willpower nor discipline to fast for a month but I do not believe that should preclude me from celebrating Eid! Not taking advantage of the 3 days off to relax and enjoy life would be foolish. Hence, we went to a place called Bamyan for the holidays. When I say ‘we’ I mean Karim Punja (Finance Director), Samir Satchu (Legal Council) and me (Logistics/Security Director). Although it was one of the shortest trips I’ve ever taken, it was also one of the best I’ve ever taken.

Where’s Bamyan? Glad you asked. I don’t want to bore you but it’s always nice to know a bit of history when visiting a place, to put things in perspective especially when that place has thousands of years of history...

The Bamyan valley is in the heart of the Hindu Kush mountains and is one of the most beautiful places in Afghanistan. It’s been isolated in modern times but was once the centre of the Kushan Empire, one of the finest periods of Afghan history.

The greatest Kushan king was Kanishka, who ruled around 130 AD. During his rule, Kanishka sponsored a Buddhist conference in Kashmir that led to the adoption of Mahayana Buddhism - a school of thought that revered the life of the Buddha as much as his spiritual teachings. Up to this point the Buddha was only represented in symbolic form, but the concept of portraying Buddha in human form spread quickly to China and is one of Afghanistan’s greatest contributions to world culture.

Fast forward a few hundred years, past the Persian invasion and onto the White Huns, who invaded in 375 AD. The White Huns would rule the region up to the Arab conquest and their adoption of Buddhism conceived the greatest period of Afghan-Buddhist art, from which came the astounding creations of the two monumental Buddha’s carved into the cliffs of the Bamyan valley. Thousands of pilgrims made visits to the area during this time and everyone from peasants to princes were passing through. The Chinese monk Hsuen Tsang wrote of ten monasteries served by a thousand priests, gilded statues, great riches, and that ‘the people surpass all others in the purity of their Faith.”

Not only was it a site of pilgrimage but Bamyan was also at the crossroads between Central Asia and the Sub-continent, meaning thousands of travelers and traders passed through annually. Hundreds of caves were cut into the cliffs to accommodate the visitors, complete with complex stairways inside the rock face that linked the various rooms and caverns. Today many locals still inhabit the caves, even installing balconies, doors and glass windows to make them more habitable. Most however, only live in the caves because of a housing shortage within the village itself.

Fast forward again, past the Arab conquest in 651 AD to the 10th century when the Ghaznavids finally brought Islam on a permanent basis. Buddhism was gradually forgotten, and subsequent rulers supposed that the colossal Buddha statues were of pagan kings.

Of course, in the 13th century there came the Mongol invasion. During Genghis Khans rampage through Bamyan, he was his typical ruthless self and murdered anything that moved, down to the rats and dogs. At one point he ran into a large fortress in the centre of the valley that he could not breach. The princess, upset that her father had refused to allow her to marry her love, revealed to Genghis Khan the secret location of the fortress wells. The wells were cut off and the fortress quickly fell. To reward the naïve princess for betraying her father and kin, Genghis Khan had her promptly executed.

Skipping past some centuries again, we saw the Pashtun led Taliban rise to power in the 1990's. The Taliban viewed the Hazara people with extreme suspicion and in 1997 blockaded the region causing severe food shortages and refused access to INGO’s. Just about the only food available during this time was potatoes and they continue to rely heavily upon them for basic sustenance. Bamyan fell to the Taliban in September 1998.

The civilian population suffered enormously under the Taliban, both from food insecurity and ethnic persecution. The eyes of the world only turned back to Afghanistan in April 2001 when, in response to UN sanctions and the increasing influence of the Arab-Afghans, the Taliban destroyed the giant Buddha’s with tank fire and dynamite. I can recall seeing video footage of the destruction on the news back then and thinking about what a tragedy it was, especially that is was done in the name of Islam. Most Islamic scholars decried the act and expressed heavy regret over the loss of such culturally significant monuments.

Today the two giant Buddha’s of Bamyan are gone and only the niches in the cliff wall overlooking the valley speak of one of Afghanistan's most remarkable sights. The 2 giant figures were carved directly from the cliff face, with the smallest standing at a height of 38m (Shamama – 1st c. AD) and the other at 53m (Salsal 2nd -3rd c. AD). Salsal was the tallest sculpture in the world right up to its destruction. The surfaces of the statues were built out with stucco of mud and straw. At their finest, the features of the Buddha’s were gilded, and their robes painted.

What was amazing to me during our visit, was that the Hazara’s of Bamyan have seen their land invaded countless times over the past 2000 years yet they were the kindest, friendliest, most welcoming people I have ever encountered anywhere I have ever been. I’m not sure if this is something that has worked in their favor over the millennia of invasions and is perhaps, the result of knowing how to adapt to a changing environment but it is a feeling of warmth that is hard to find elsewhere.
As we drove through the valleys people stopped what they are doing, smiled and waved at us shouting ‘Salaam’ and ‘Eid Mubarak’. While exploring the village, people were genuinely happy and curious to see us and most greeted us very warmly with “As Salaam Alaikum” and the traditional Afghan custom of placing a hand to their chest meaning, ‘I greet you from the heart’. Their handsome Asian features were dusted with the history of their invaders; light hair, fair skin, piercing blue eyes, even red heads would pop up once in a while and we had to force ourselves to keep from staring impolitely. The people there are clearly as much a product of their environment as their environment is a product of them.

I found myself filled with sincere admiration for what they have been through and how they have survived but I also felt a deep sense of trepidation. Places like Bamyan are rare and it won’t be long before tourists like me flood the valley, pollute the land and force the locals to change their way of life (yet again) to meet our demands for adventure and cultural exploration. Its just a matter of time really, Id say a few years at best before the wealth of tourism overrides the wealth of tradition and the region becomes one more overexploited area for sincere, yet hapless tourists. It will have to be managed extremely carefully (by whom I do not know) to have any chance of surviving.

Perhaps in some ways, the encroachment of modernity is completely natural and beneficial as the standard of living will rise and the people will experience some of the benefits of the technological age. Of course, in the big picture this is nothing more than history repeating itself and the current version of the region is the result of constant change and outside influence. But there will be a loss; a loss that is immeasurable, borderless, obscure yet perfectly distinct and one that will be sorely felt by anyone who visited the region before the Great Tourist Invasion (21st c. AD).

It will be much like the decimated Buddhas, in that you have an idea of what they once looked like but the beauty, the majesty and the cultural statement they reflected can only be speculated upon and never restored or duplicated. They are simply lost to us forever and the only thing we can do now is write about them, photograph their cavernous crypts and try to imagine what it was like when the Buddha’s ruled the valley with a steady gaze and a philosophy of balance. Sadly, this sense of loss may one day consume the whole valley itself.

As you have probably inferred, the trip was amazing. I have never before witnessed such breathtaking scenery and in such a short amount of time. It is truly Central Asia and you know it when you are passing through this ancient land. I understand that in spring and summer the valley is bursting with various shades of green and blue as the fields come to life and the waters spill down from the nearby whitecaps.

We had a great (albeit BUMPY) seven hour drive up, spent the day exploring Bamyan and the night freezing our butts off in the unheated rooms. The next day we drove another 3 hours to a place called Band-e-Amere (meaning 5 lakes) which sit at nearly 3000m (10000+ feet) and are a series of lakes on escalating plateaus. Surrounded by porous limestone rock beds, each lake feeds the next via small waterfalls which cascade down short steps and into the next lake. Villagers make their homes at the end of the gorge, where the water does not reach.

The unnatural appearance of these lakes is explained locally by the miracle of the Caliph Ali (cousin and some say successor of the Prophet Mohammad), who raised the limestone walls to dam a dangerous river and bring about the conversion to Islam of the local pagan king. A high mineral content of the water means that the lakes change their hue according to the light and time of day, a scene of stunning beauty. After Band-e-Amere we drove back to Bamyan, stayed another night and flew back to Kabul (only 20 minutes) early the next day.

THE REQUEST:
If you ever get a chance to go, I say you should jump on it but with a small request; that you do so with a humble sense of respect for the people, their culture and their environment, so that others can do the same after you.

Enough chatter. I took way too many pictures. Go see them already by clicking here

Pardon me

I was recently informed by a very trusted source (Anusha) that my last entry did in fact, come across as condescending and patronizing despite my written disclaimer that I was not trying to be so. I still stand by my original claim but since this piece of information came from someone who’s opinion I value, I promise to try and do better next time. I will actually explain things in more detail and make more of an effort to show how things really are out here instead of saying that it cannot be done. In my defense though, I was in a cranky mood when I wrote that and I was probably having a long week (or month) so that in itself may shed some light on how things sometimes are out here.
I will not however, post any naked pictures as some of you are requesting since I think that would take this site to a level im not ready to take it to (not yet anyway).
Bye for now

Well, its kinda like (insert simile here)

Sometimes when I write this stuff down I remember that some people are actually interested in what Afghanistan is really like and what exactly we are doing over here. Then I realize that no one actually reads this shit and if they do and honestly believe that they will get an accurate picture from it, they are the same people who think CNN really is the most trusted name in news.

The truth is, no matter how many pictures I put up on this site, no matter how many stories or opinions I puke up onto this page, unless you are here working, living, laughing, yelling, crying (not that I do that), learning, shitting (don’t drink the water) and trying to find your way through another bizarre day, you will never ‘get it’. I’m not trying to sound condescending or patronizing. It's just that its impossible to describe this place to the point where you can really understand all the madness. Even after having been here for nine months I can’t understand the madness. Perhaps I'm just a crap writer, which, if you think about, is the truest thing I've ever written but I’m sure even great writers would be hard pressed to truly relate the experience of this place with a few well placed pen strokes and pixels. So screw it. The easiest thing to do is forget about writing it, cataloguing it and photographing it and just get on with living it. This will be my last entry.

Ok you got me. I lied. My ego will kick in soon enough and I’ll write some more bullshit that I’m convinced someone somewhere wants to read about...ll try to make it profound but one reason thoughts are declared profound is because of thier rarity so I cant make any promises.

I went back to Toronto at the beginning of august for 10 days. I spent a week pissing around trying to remember what other subjects I can talk about besides work. You mean people actually have lives outside of their jobs? That’s an interesting idea……hmmm, maybe we should import that into this country. Can you franchise that concept? What about a two day weekend? Is that not a clearly spelled out right in the UN Charter of Basic Human Rights? If its not it should be. Anyway, when I was back there everyone was asking, “so what’s it like?” and I found myself mumbling about work, trying to dig up stories about the lifestyle and people, scratching my head over what to say as much as what NOT say and generally, just saying a lot of stuff that related nothing. Stuff that gave not even an obscure vision of what this place is like and what I’m doing in it. Maybe I was just so abhorrently lazy that pronouncing vowels became too much of a chore when I was stringing together my sentences. Either way, I think that while i was at home I ran into the same barriers I face when I try to write on this page. They are:

1) Complete and utter stupidity (das gonna be a tough one to fix)
2) An inability to, uh, um...
3) Right
4) I mean write.

If I were asked to boil it all down though, I would think long and hard and say (ahem):
“This place is fucked up…”
So I guess it’s a good thing I never promised to be profound.

I’m going to Dubai tomorrow morning to stay at the Ritz Carleton, directly adjacent to a white sand beach with a private cabana. If that doesn’t inspire rarity of thought then I’m sure the ice cold beer in a real pint glass will. We're (all the ex-pats) leaving the country for a few days, precisely during the FIRST EVER national elections that this country has had in its 5000 or so years of human history. Bombs and rockets are likely to be going off in Kabul so we are booking it out of here to do our jobs from Dubai and have a few meetings and conferences. Not so bad, but I would have liked to have stayed, just to really be a part of the history. I guess I can read about it in some loser’s online puke page but then, will I really get an accurate picture of what I missed?
Not likely, but maybe I’ll read something profound.
Again, not likely.

(Mine) Fields of Joy

So there was an accident recently where a mine exploded and injured some guys working near a place where we were planning to do some work. To make sure the area was ok we sent some de-miners out there to take a look. I got to go with them. It was a couple hours drive outside of Kabul on the top of a mountain, in the middle of a mountain range, somewhere between nowhere and the middle of nowhere. The local militia commander (Commander Sahib) came with and was very hospitable, cooking fresh goat curry with na'an bread for lunch and then ripe melon for dessert. He proudly showed us the vast expanse of the land he controlled and some of the people in it. According to him, this area was once a defensive outpost of, well, 'terrorists' now that they aren’t on our side, but when they were fighting the Soviets they were freedom fighters trying to save their land and homes from Godless invading armies. Whatever you want to call them, land mines were placed around the area and we escorted the UN de-mining team up to the site to investigate.

Everything went well; no further explosions and they are clearing the land to make it safe. The trip up was pretty interesting though and I took some pictures. I thought you might want to see them. Just click here

Common Ground

In Canada, it sometimes gets so cold that if you're outside and spit, it turns to ice before it hits the ground.

In Afghanistan, it sometimes gets so dusty that if you're outside and spit, it turns to mud before it hits the ground.

Whatever country you’re in, it’s still a bad idea to spit into the wind.

Her Story

I met her on the plane as I was returning home to Kabul from a working weekend in Dubai. When we saw each other we both smiled politely and were immediately comfortable and on friendly terms. As I squeezed into the seat beside her and diligently put on my seatbelt, I greeted her with 'Asalaam Alaikum' and asked her how she was doing in Farsi. She responded in Farsi and continued with a few quiet questions that I could not understand. I had to humbly let her know that a simple greeting is pretty much all I know in her language. I didn’t expect it, but she was fluent in English, the result of having lived in California for the past 21 years.

We spoke for most of the 2 hour flight and I learned that her name is Hakeema and she was returning home to Kabul for one month to see her ill mother and younger sister. This will be the first time in 21 years that she will see her country or her mother. Her father passed away five years ago. She is a registered nurse in the USA, educated at Kabul University when the country was still liberal and women were able to go to school, become doctors, judges and hold public office. Ironically enough, when the USA was debating if black people were human enough to vote, Afghans were electing female leaders. Tight clothes and short skirts were common and Kabul was truly an international city. People flocked here from all over the world as they retraced the old silk routes of civilizations past.

Hakeema has 5 sisters and one brother all of whom are living in various parts of the world. Her father insisted that they all become educated and now most of them are doctors or nurses. The children fled when the Russians invaded and have stayed out ever since. Keeping in touch with friends and family that remained behind was impossible for much of that time since phones did not really exist here until recently. She was full of stories from when she was a young girl running in the hills of Kabul, enjoying the company of her siblings and parents and friends.

I could hear the tension in her voice. The excitement of coming back home after such a long time and after her country had been through so much was bubbling up through her nervous jokes and dramatic expressions. As happy as she was, she was also quite afraid of what she would find. Twenty-three years of war and suffering wreak utter havoc both physically and psychologically on the people who suffer it. One of my Afghan friends put it into perspective the other day. Born in Afghanistan but educated at UC Berkley, he has some interesting perspectives. He said he witnessed a fundamental shift in the psyche of the American population after Sept 11. Understandably, that one day dramatically affected the culture of the population on a very basic level. Fear, anger, suspicion, illogic and judgment of others took over. "Sept 11", he calmly stated, "has been happening to Afghanistan every single day for the past 23 years". Imagine the effect that had on the way these people view themselves, the world and their place within it.

This is what she was coming home to. Such a seismic shift, a complete reversal of everything she grew up in and around. Each time a change of power or circumstance presented itself, it did so through the barrel of a gun. She was coming home to a completely different and highly traumatized world.

As contagious as her anticipation and excitement were I was a bit mesmerized and found myself speaking silently as this woman experienced the upwelling of emotions and thoughts that would naturally accompany such an experience. She stared hard at me a couple of times then told me that I looked just like her son who was 13 years old and waiting for here back in the US. She adopted him from India when he was 2 months old. His mother died in childbirth and his father concluded that he was bad luck, so he was passed into the hands of the orphanage. Hakeema found him there and has been blessed ever since.

As the plane escorted her back to her youth it traced a wide circle around this incredible city, allowing a full and brilliant view of what the next month of her life would look like. Kabul from the air is like nothing you’ve ever seen. It's built on a broad plateau and is surrounded on all sides by mammoth hills that bleed into unending mountain ranges behind them. The city itself consists of a million low lying buildings and huts that shove and sprawl across the entire plain and spill up the sides of the surrounding hillsides. The mud and brick homes cluster thickly around the bottom edges of these hills then gradually spread out the further up you go. You can see patches of green as farmers re-stake their tiny claims in and around the city. But the hills themselves are brown and dusty, devoid of the grass and trees that in better times, completely engulfed the city.

She began to quietly cry. I believe it was as much out of joy as anguish at seeing the tattered remains of the city where her spirit has rested impatiently for the past two decades. I cannot imagine how it must have felt for this woman. Her edgy sense of humor and sweet demeanor weakly masked the dread at what she might be coming back to and the intense hope of what may yet be. It made my heart ache to watch as she struggled with the crash of emotions inside her.

As we made our way off the plane and onto the runway, the warmth of the Afghan sun dried her eyes. She smiled and kindly thanked me for the company and conversation.

In parting ways, there was very little I could say to her except, "Welcome Home".

Wanna Lick?

Last months edition of The Economist had an article on poverty and the west ("A Question of Justice?" March 13-19). The author argued that the level of poverty in the world is not the fault of western nations or a lack of sincere effort on their part but more so, the result of a lack of capitalism and an appreciation of the free market by the governments of these poor people. Specifically, the anit-globalist and aid agency line that the west is profiting at the expense of the poor is a fallacy that feeds the problem more than it medicates it. There are, he says, enough resources to go around for most who are currently poor to become much better off, and the west doesn’t have to lose a penny in the process. He argues that market economies are not a "zero-sum game" and that if, for example, the United States consumes $10 trillion tons of goods and services a year it is only because it also produces that amount, the implication being that none of that is taken from underdeveloped countries. If only they would embrace the free market, they too could experience the riches of the world.

I must say that I agree with the author on a few points namely, that in this age of plenty it is a disgrace that there are hundreds of millions of people who are living on less than a dollar a day. I also agree that the idea of total economic equality is only conceivably achievable with an outright tyrannical regime implementing and monitoring it. However, the author makes some oversights that our right-of-centre friends often make in this argument. First of all, the resources of the world are, in fact, limited. Many are quite simply and well known to be finite and even if there was enough to go around given our bloated appetites, it’s not the person licking the spoon who gets fat but the person holding the spoon who does. It’s why for centuries, countless wars have been fought over the same lands and resources. It’s about ownership, not access in this world. His argument that we can all share in the goodness is based on a power differential of someone coming from a country and background that easily allows him to believe that 'giving them a lick' is sharing and all that they need to be satisfied.

Mentalities like this are exemplified in many polices and strategies of those indirect ambassadors of the United States such as the World Bank and IMF. Historically, their policies have seen them lend money to weak, underdeveloped countries on the condition that they open up their markets to foreign investment. What ends up happening is that the most promising and essential resources, companies and services end up in the hands of foreigners whose primary concern is profit. This alone is not necessarily a bad thing since profitable companies create jobs, bring stability etc. Sounds good, but too often these businesses and resources are sold to large foreign multinationals who buy them at cut throat prices and then corner the market to charge the (already strained) local population ridiculous sums for necessary goods. Energy and manufacturing are prime targets but most disturbingly, so is water.

Does it bother anyone that in most parts of the world, we are PAYING for our water? Not only that but it’s often more expensive per liter than gasoline. Does it bother anyone that clean, safe water is no longer a guarantee unless it’s provided to you by a profit driven company? It’s not about being a tree hugger, it’s about watching the most essential substance on the planet being increasingly controlled by small groups of individuals whose primary concern is to sell it to you at the highest price the market will bear. It’s not unreasonable to expect to see bottled air soon, but those savvy marketing geniuses will no doubt make it seem like that’s the next cool thing and much more preferable to the free stuff we’re getting right now. By then, like water is now becoming, it will indeed be essential to buy your air since the free stuff will be so polluted it will be worth whatever price they charge.

But I digress. My issue here is not environmentalism. It’s with the fervent belief that capitalism in developing countries will solve all their problems. No more poverty, no more waste, no more disease, no more pollution, no more want, no more hate, no more terrorism....that sounds pretty good. Maybe that good ol' boy Donald 'Rummy' Rumsfeld and his brass balled buddies in the Pentagon are right. Lets bust open the markets and let those poor, misguided souls of the third world in on our secret. We can buy their goods cheap and sell them ours! Wait a minute, they can’t afford ours. Fuck it, force it down their throats anyway. If they don’t like it, we can cut off ties and starve 'em into submission with sanctions and tariffs. If they complain we’ll complain louder, if they fight we will fight harder, if they cry, hit 'em again!

And that bit of sarcasm, ladies and gentleman, not only let me vent a bit but hopefully helped illustrate my point; that the opening up of these economies is only done under certain conditions where the primary beneficiaries of trade are the most powerful countries (and by default their citizens). U.S steel is an easy example. The U.S ceaselessly talks about free trade and open markets but simply cannot handle it when other countries do it cheaper and better so they impose tariffs (often illegally) upon importers, thereby breaking their own rules. For my Canadian friends, the pulp and paper industry is another example of this double standard and if you realize what the US is willing to do to impose their will on their ‘friends and neighbors to the north' imagine what they are willing and capable of doing to an impoverished country in sub-Saharan Africa, or the Middle East, or Asia or South America? It happens all the time, you just don’t hear about it.

I’m not saying we should never try to encourage free markets but lets not be so naive as to think that it works every time or that our governments and institutions are motivated purely by altruism. They pry open these markets to make a profit, whether it’s forcing opium into China, exporting (blood) diamonds out of the Congo, or selling chemical weapons to Iran and Iraq at the same time. We often take advantage of weaker economies, and then hypocritically claim that other governments practice unfair trade, sell arms illegally or impose illegal tariffs. If we are to sit here and believe that our markets, our businesses, our institutions, our governments and our lifestyles do not heavily profit at the expense of the poor we are most definitely missing a key point in solving some of the relevant issues facing today’s society.

I will be the first to acknowledge many of the developing countries’ poor leadership, corruption, ego driven decision making, blind religiosity, and factional fighting that have contributed HEAPS to the poverty and destitution of their people. Let’s put the responsibility everywhere it lies but particularly, where it’s within our ability to change. Lets take our share and realize that war, colonialism, imperialism, sponsored coups (often against democratically elected officials), sanctions, forced agreements, double edged policies and in many ways, globalization, have sever impacts and cannot be rationalized as well-intentioned efforts or dismissed as minor factors in the creation and continuation of world poverty levels and for that matter, world violence levels. We do indeed take from the poor to maintain our lifestyles. To say we do not is a blind and self pacifying belief that will likely be held closest by those benefiting most from the current state of affairs. The simple fact that 80% of the worlds wealth is held by less than 15% of the worlds population has to make one wonder how sustainable this and how it came to be in the first place. The wealthy minority has always become so at the expense of the poor majority. It is carved into the history of the world and just because we don’t feel comfortable with that thought does not mean we should deny its validity.


Having said all that, I am a capitalist. It’s true. Whew, I’m glad I got that off my chest. I really do think that capitalism has some answers for many parts of the world’s conflict zones. I’m in one of them and working hard to make it happen right now. I do believe however, that without a social conscience to rein capitalism in we will never maximize social and political justice. I guess that makes me a social capitalist. See, unlike Georgy Porgy, I don’t view the world in black and white, right and wrong, with him or against him. Granted, I am quite decidedly against him, yet strangely also against Osama ‘Yo Mama’ too. Hmmm, how can that be? Well, maybe it’s the tiny fraction of intelligence God has bestowed upon (most) humans that makes us see the world in Technicolor instead of black and white. It could also be the fact that too much power, too much belief, too much control, too much money, too much pride, too much of anything can be incredibly dangerous, no matter what side you may mistakenly think you are being forced to choose. Bush is as dangerous to world peace as Bin Laden. No doubt about it, they are both completely mad and equally caught up in the belief that what they are doing is truly right. That’s the scary part. And they’ll use whatever influence, fear mongering, ignorance and prejudice pushing means they can to get their point (and weapons) across.

Thomas Friedman (right-wing economist and columnist in the U.S) said, “There can exist no invisible hand without an invisible fist to help it along.” Unfortunately, he’s correct. That role is currently being played willingly and effectively by the United States Military Machine. It is powerful, well funded, well trained and always hungry. It exists as much to enforce US business interests as to protect US soil. Any country who proudly states how peace loving it is, yet manages to be at war or involved in some other significant military confrontation for fifty consecutive years, only once defending its land from a viable invasion (that lasted 3 weeks in Cuba) during that entire period, is gaining much more than what it’s expending. Fun fact number two: the US has 5% of the world’s population but accounts for over 50% of the world’s annual military expenditures….and there are people who believe that figure should rise even further.

When Bush vowed to bring “democracy” to the Middle East, it was as pathetic and hollow as the humble, God fearing European colonialists of the 19th c. insisting that swallowing up Africa and Asia was necessary to bring the blessing of Christianity and civilization to the savages. The true motivation behind colonization was and remains, to pillage resources. Many of those who belonged to former colonies view imperialism as rape. Wars such as the one in Iraq do little more than to corrupt armies, followed by the nation that began them, reducing both conquered and conqueror alike to little more than, well, savages.

Control, ownership, influence, and fear have been/are being imposed upon many other countries with huge payoffs being ripped out of their human and non-human resources. Democratic freedoms and capitalism are heroically demanded when the resources of those countries are not controlled by the west, but rarely in those cases where totalitarian governments are co-operating with the west. Obviously that’s because the goal of our governments and leading corporations is not the promotion of freedom, it’s the promotion of profit and where profit allows freedom, great. Where it doesn’t, that’s acceptable.

The wars in Afghanistan and Iraq are not being fought by an army of peace lovers who wish to liberate women from their burkas, preserve world harmony and to once and for all put an end to “evildoers”. Tom Brokaw (the popular U.S news anchor), a few days into the Iraq invasion said “One of the things we don’t want to do…..is to destroy the infrastructure of Iraq because in a few days we’re going to own that country.” In many people’s minds, Iraq is no longer a country, it’s an asset. They quite simply want to hold the spoons of the world and if we’re good boys and girls, the rest of us just might get a lick.