It is amazing to think that a few veterans of the first World War still provide a living link to the war that provided the blueprint for the bloody twentieth century. Naked aggression and empire-building, chemical warfare and ethnic holocaust and official lies, deceit and stupid propaganda all marked that war, which left millions dead in its wake and the world’s people and governments vowing – briefly – never to do it again, only to do it again and again. Armistice Day – which marks the end of that war – was soon enough re-christened “Veteran’s Day” to honor the bravery of all the poor kids who fought in the bloody wars that followed the war to end all wars.
It is ancient history, but, conversely, still a living history and we would do well to heed certain lessons. Before he died today, Alfred Anderson was the last man left alive in this world who participated in the unofficial Christmas Truce of 1914, where French, British and German soldiers embraced in No Man’s Land, exchanged pictures from home, sang carols and even played a game of soccer.
Queen Victoria’s grandchildren had only that summer quashed any concerns about their inconvenient lineage in order to drum up nationalist fervor to recruit cannon fodder for their imperialist war mongering. Predictions of speedy victory, as is their wont, resulted in protracted stalemate, as the warring sides dug in for trench warfare in the French countryside. The trenches of December 1914 were not the elaborate network of tunnels and bunkers depicted in films like “Paths of Glory” and “A Very Long Engagement.” Those came later. These were shallow holes dug in bloody mud. It was likely as miserable an experience as a man could ever expect, and it’s hardly a surprise that the men could not muster enthusiasm to go on killing on that Christmas eve.
Gunfire was so sporadic, the air so quiet, and with only a few hundred feet between them the soldiers could at last hear each other’s voices. In their rusty second languages, soldiers called out to each other. They wished each other happy holidays. They talked about their families and girlfriends back home. Finally, they told each other, “we won’t shoot if you won’t” and all came up out of their putrid holes and met in between.
This story is something of a pacifist fairy tale, although it is true. It confirms our hopes about man’s better nature. How can a man swear another man is his enemy and must die because he wears a different uniform, after he has met him and discussed his family and life with him?
The same thing that gives us hope terrified the generals, who forbade the continuation of the truce and punished participants. Soon the fighting resumed, escalated and dragged on for four more years. Future truces would be officially sanctioned breaks to collect the dead from No Man’s Land and re-dig trenches after territory shifts.
I wonder if Alfred Anderson preferred the tributes of Veteran’s Day to the mourning of Armistice Day. Interviewed for this past November 11, he gave a hint: “I felt so guilty meeting the families of friends who were lost. They looked at me as if I should have been left in the mud of France instead of their loved one. I couldn’t blame them, they were grieving, and I still share their grief and bear that feeling of guilt.”
The Bush administration’s deep problems don’t quite feel like a good reason to celebrate. Lies and incompetence have caught up with Bush, whose presidential approval rating hovers around Watergate-Nixonian levels, while Dick Cheney’s even less popular, after his chief of staff’s indictment.
“I divide time now between BSI–Before Scooter’s Indictment–and ASI–After Scooter’s Indictment,” says Working Life blogger Jonaathan Tasini. First of all, I’m not sure if we’re witnessing the crucifixion or the martyrdom of Bush-Cheney’s henchmen. If Vice President Heart Attack chooses this time to “take one for the team” and resign for “health reasons,” does it really hurt the Republicans, or does it simply give Bush an opportunity to appoint an heir-apparent VP who could be spared a bruising 2008 primary, and who could tap into conservative fury over the “railroading” of such conservative superstars as Cheney and Rove.
And secondly, can the Democrats – our “opposition party” by default in Washington – actually capitalize on Bush-Cheney’s crimes? Do they have the guts to prosecute Cheney even after he resigns, forcing Bush to pull a Gerald Ford and issue an unpopular pardon? Hell, do they have the guts to vote for the resolution House Republicans are threatening to introduce, calling for a speedy withdrawal from Iraq? The Republicans are calling the Democrats’ bluff and daring them to vote against this unpopular war. They should vote yes – in large numbers.
Nevermind. The results just came in. The resolution calling for speedy withdrawal failed 403-3. Remind me, what do the Democrats stand for, exactly?
Bush may yet pull this one out. Even if he doesn’t, I don’t consider the fall of the Bush administration to be any kind of “success.” The only person, clearly, who can defeat George Bush is George Bush. Millions of us marching in the streets couldn’t prevent him from starting this stupid war. And after he leaves, we’ll still be left with new rules in Washington that say it’s okay to buy, rent, lease and borrow the media and journalists to sell an administration’s lies. We’re still left with so much of the world pissed off at our empire. We’re still left with gutted environmental standards, a dead Kyoto and a melting polar ice cap. We’re left with no moral authority on torture and weapons of mass destruction. We got more chickens coming home to roost long after Bush fades from the scene.
Before 9/11, before Bush, we had our own issues. We set our own agenda. Remember the Teamsters and the Turtles and the WTO? Nader and the Green Party? Day Without the Pentagon?
It’s going to take so long to go back to setting a people’s agenda. Alas, we’ll be cleaning up after Bush – with luck! – for many years.
I have neglected to write about the Socialist Party’s National Convention, which I attended a month ago. There was much to be frustrated by, but also some reason to be optimistic. I’m not going analyze it too much. I’m just going to focus on publishing the best damn bi-monthly 16-page socialist magazine that I can, and continuing to build a network with the good guys.
Speaking of good guys, I finally met Wayne Rossi at the convention. Wayne was a voice of reason in committee and on the floor, an efficient timekeeper and a pretty astute political observer. His blog has switched servers and now has a new name and address: Beneath the Red Flag.
It was also good to meet and party with the comrades from Michigan, with whom the SP of NYC was previously engaged in a ridiculous grudge match. Ben Burgis, from Kalamazoo, publishes a very witty and accessible blog, the Debsian, on Red TV.
Steve Sears was not at the convention, although he managed to win election to the party’s National Committee by virtue of his rational and pragmatic e-mail posts. His blog, Sun – Surf – Socialism, is rarely updated and probably needs a new title now that he left Florida to organize nurses in Wisconsin.
I’ve noticed that MySpace “blogs” and LiveJournals abound among the comrades in YPSL. They tend to be much more personal in nature and are awash in the “OMG WTF LOL” internet shorthand that’s destroying this generation’s adult literacy rates. Amusingly, one comrade broke up the monotony of her totally emo dating drama angst with the occasional blistering ad hominem political attack. Unfortunately, nobody explained to her the importance of those cutesy internet monikers (like, say, “the red-bearded bastard from queens”) in maintaining a degree of anonymity. Full legal names turn up in Google searches, y’see. The diary has since been mercifully made private.
If you are one of those LiveJournal kids, this Blarg is syndicated on the service. Help expand my media empire.
