Friday, September 29, 2006
R. I. P., Osama
In light of the recent tales of Osama bin Laden's purported death from typhoid fever, we need to remind ourselves that, whether reports of Osama's death are premature and/or exaggerated, it hardly matters anymore. He has risen to such mythic proportions in the world of the Islamic jihadists that his being alive or dead has become irrelevant.
Wherever and however he is, bin Laden's role in the holy war against the West is no longer a tactical or strategic one; it is an inspirational one, and his death would not change his influence one iota. He has achieved that particular height that transforms individuals, whether dead or alive, whether real or fictional, into mythic figures, whose presence will be held sacred long after they have shuffled off their mortal coils and, in bin Laden's case, received his heavenly reward of 72 Whitney Houston albums.
He has joined figures like Robin Hood, Scaramouche, Zapata, and Che Guevara, who are free to roam the countrysides of their respective lands -- and in the respective minds of those who choose to cherish them as immortal heroes -- inspiring others to follow them against their mortal foes, be they the Sheriff of Nottingham or George W. Bush.
It is the kind of mythologizing that is behind even those recurring stories of how John F. Kennedy and James Dean are being kept alive in nursing homes in California and Elvis is still flipping burgers in Kalamazoo. Hell, even stories of John Dillinger still being alive persisted long after he made that fateful trip to see a melodramatic movie at the Biograph Theater.
The power of myth is strong, stronger even than the realities of their subjects. We shouldn't delude ourselves into thinking that if only we could capture bin Laden, all our troubles with terrorism will be over. Look at Che Guevara, the Johnny Appleseed of Cuban communism. Even though authorities went to the extraordinary lengths of putting his lifeless body before the news cameras, many in Latin America refused to believe it was really him and reports of Che sightings persisted for decades. Movies, songs, and Broadway musicals were written of him, further perpetuating the myth of his continuing existence.
He no longer existed, but his shadowy silhouette still wielded tremendous power over the minds of those who were inclined to be drawn into the mythology. The same is true of bin Laden. Even if we should capture/kill him tomorrow -- and there is no evidence to suggest that we will -- Osama will remain alive in the hills of Tora Bora for decades, maybe even centuries, after.
The reports of his death, if and when they come, will be ignored by jihadists and would-be jihadists. In fact, if he dies of natural causes, which seems the most likely outcome, the reports will not even come. Bin Laden understands mythologization as well as anyone. His dying instruction to his subordinates, I'm sure, will be, "Bury me so deep that no one will ever find me."
So, let us quit fretting about whether he is dead or alive. It doesn't matter. Maybe it never has, at least not post-9/11. He is the most dangerous threat to America on the planet, more so when he is dead than when he is alive.
As someone semi-famous once said, "Armies are useless against ideas." Or, even more so, against myths. We should be working on the realities, not the myth of bin Laden, not the myth of Western-style democracy in Iraq, not the myth that maybe thyphoid did America's bidding when its "intelligence" complex couldn't manage to. At least we may have a chance to neutralize the power of the image of radical Islam's Scaramouche roaming the countrysides of the Middle East, inspiring new armies of suicidal terrorists, and cut our losses. Maybe.
Wherever and however he is, bin Laden's role in the holy war against the West is no longer a tactical or strategic one; it is an inspirational one, and his death would not change his influence one iota. He has achieved that particular height that transforms individuals, whether dead or alive, whether real or fictional, into mythic figures, whose presence will be held sacred long after they have shuffled off their mortal coils and, in bin Laden's case, received his heavenly reward of 72 Whitney Houston albums.
He has joined figures like Robin Hood, Scaramouche, Zapata, and Che Guevara, who are free to roam the countrysides of their respective lands -- and in the respective minds of those who choose to cherish them as immortal heroes -- inspiring others to follow them against their mortal foes, be they the Sheriff of Nottingham or George W. Bush.
It is the kind of mythologizing that is behind even those recurring stories of how John F. Kennedy and James Dean are being kept alive in nursing homes in California and Elvis is still flipping burgers in Kalamazoo. Hell, even stories of John Dillinger still being alive persisted long after he made that fateful trip to see a melodramatic movie at the Biograph Theater.
The power of myth is strong, stronger even than the realities of their subjects. We shouldn't delude ourselves into thinking that if only we could capture bin Laden, all our troubles with terrorism will be over. Look at Che Guevara, the Johnny Appleseed of Cuban communism. Even though authorities went to the extraordinary lengths of putting his lifeless body before the news cameras, many in Latin America refused to believe it was really him and reports of Che sightings persisted for decades. Movies, songs, and Broadway musicals were written of him, further perpetuating the myth of his continuing existence.
He no longer existed, but his shadowy silhouette still wielded tremendous power over the minds of those who were inclined to be drawn into the mythology. The same is true of bin Laden. Even if we should capture/kill him tomorrow -- and there is no evidence to suggest that we will -- Osama will remain alive in the hills of Tora Bora for decades, maybe even centuries, after.
The reports of his death, if and when they come, will be ignored by jihadists and would-be jihadists. In fact, if he dies of natural causes, which seems the most likely outcome, the reports will not even come. Bin Laden understands mythologization as well as anyone. His dying instruction to his subordinates, I'm sure, will be, "Bury me so deep that no one will ever find me."
So, let us quit fretting about whether he is dead or alive. It doesn't matter. Maybe it never has, at least not post-9/11. He is the most dangerous threat to America on the planet, more so when he is dead than when he is alive.
As someone semi-famous once said, "Armies are useless against ideas." Or, even more so, against myths. We should be working on the realities, not the myth of bin Laden, not the myth of Western-style democracy in Iraq, not the myth that maybe thyphoid did America's bidding when its "intelligence" complex couldn't manage to. At least we may have a chance to neutralize the power of the image of radical Islam's Scaramouche roaming the countrysides of the Middle East, inspiring new armies of suicidal terrorists, and cut our losses. Maybe.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Stupidity Test, Part 7
7. Which of the following has recruited the most new international terrorists over the past five years?
A. Osama bin Laden
B. Operation Iraqi Freedom
C. Gay marriage
D. Hillary Clinton
Frankly, I'm at the point where I don't know what the right answer is anymore, either. I'm pretty sure it isn't C or D and probably not A (if he didn't die of typhoid -- I still think he's working at the same fast-food restaurant in Kalamazoo as Elvis).
A. Osama bin Laden
B. Operation Iraqi Freedom
C. Gay marriage
D. Hillary Clinton
Frankly, I'm at the point where I don't know what the right answer is anymore, either. I'm pretty sure it isn't C or D and probably not A (if he didn't die of typhoid -- I still think he's working at the same fast-food restaurant in Kalamazoo as Elvis).
Monday, September 11, 2006
Crikey! It's a Jungle Out There
First, up front, I am a big fan of wildlife and its preservation, and I also regret the death of Steve Irwin.
But, at the same time, I feel compelled to raise the question about the legacies of people, like Irwin and Timothy "Grizzly Man" Treadwell, who claim to be wildlife conservationists. I don't doubt their sincerity, just their methods (and motivations). They both seem to have forgotten one essential fact about their beloved wildlife: They are, first and foremost, wild.
Irwin presented wildlife more as a carnival sideshow than an intriguing part of nature, and he was the star, not so much the animals. Treadwell was even worse; in the documentary film Grizzly Man at least, the beach-bum/surfer-turned-conservationist came off as a naive little twit who somehow thought he could "bond" with grizzly bears by living among them during the summers (thus protecting them from poachers).
It was a noble undertaking, I suppose, but he overlooked a crucial and undeniable fact: If you intend to live among grizzly bears, you damn sure better be a grizzly bear. He wasn't. The grizzlies knew that, despite Treadwell's adamant belief that they were his friends (he even named them, for God's sake), and one morning a hungry bear recognized that Treadwell and his female companion looked more like breakfast than blood brothers (and sister).
The fact that Irwin didn't succumb to one of the creatures he famously (and there's the key word) wrestled and rode around on like amusement park rides was sheer happenstance. If that manta ray hadn't got him, a croc or venomous snake eventually would have.
We should fear that the legacy of Irwin and Treadwell and their ilk among modern wildlife "conservationists" (even Dian Fossey, though her demise came at the hands of creatures of the human variety, not the gorillas) is that future generations will think of wild animals as toys and/or our bosom buddies. They are neither. In this regard, Irwin, Treadwell, and company may have set back the cause of wildlife conservation at least two decades.
The first law of the jungle was, is, and will always be that the only ones who belong there are those who were born there and instinctively know what the deal is, kill or be killed. Humans who don't get that shouldn't try to pretend that they can forge their own place in there (with movie and TV cameras rolling). They should do their admiring and conserving -- which is only natural and indeed admirable -- from a safe distance. They do make telephoto lenses, you know.
But, at the same time, I feel compelled to raise the question about the legacies of people, like Irwin and Timothy "Grizzly Man" Treadwell, who claim to be wildlife conservationists. I don't doubt their sincerity, just their methods (and motivations). They both seem to have forgotten one essential fact about their beloved wildlife: They are, first and foremost, wild.
Irwin presented wildlife more as a carnival sideshow than an intriguing part of nature, and he was the star, not so much the animals. Treadwell was even worse; in the documentary film Grizzly Man at least, the beach-bum/surfer-turned-conservationist came off as a naive little twit who somehow thought he could "bond" with grizzly bears by living among them during the summers (thus protecting them from poachers).
It was a noble undertaking, I suppose, but he overlooked a crucial and undeniable fact: If you intend to live among grizzly bears, you damn sure better be a grizzly bear. He wasn't. The grizzlies knew that, despite Treadwell's adamant belief that they were his friends (he even named them, for God's sake), and one morning a hungry bear recognized that Treadwell and his female companion looked more like breakfast than blood brothers (and sister).
The fact that Irwin didn't succumb to one of the creatures he famously (and there's the key word) wrestled and rode around on like amusement park rides was sheer happenstance. If that manta ray hadn't got him, a croc or venomous snake eventually would have.
We should fear that the legacy of Irwin and Treadwell and their ilk among modern wildlife "conservationists" (even Dian Fossey, though her demise came at the hands of creatures of the human variety, not the gorillas) is that future generations will think of wild animals as toys and/or our bosom buddies. They are neither. In this regard, Irwin, Treadwell, and company may have set back the cause of wildlife conservation at least two decades.
The first law of the jungle was, is, and will always be that the only ones who belong there are those who were born there and instinctively know what the deal is, kill or be killed. Humans who don't get that shouldn't try to pretend that they can forge their own place in there (with movie and TV cameras rolling). They should do their admiring and conserving -- which is only natural and indeed admirable -- from a safe distance. They do make telephoto lenses, you know.
