Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts
By Alyce Wilson
I couldn't believe it was so cold again this morning, especially since yesterday I didn't even need a jacket.
The winter coat came back out, I even saw a few snowflakes. Una immediately stopped shedding, and her giddy, bouncy mood of the last few days was exchanged for a serious expression, as she pushed her little face into the wind.
The exuberant birdsong had changed to subdued chirping, and everything seemed to hold its breath, which was appropriate given the state we're all in right now, waiting out the last hours until the 48-hour deadline for George W. Bush's ultimatum to Saddam Hussein. Leave Iraq, he said, or face war.
It reminds me of high school fights at the panther. Our high school mascot was a black panther, and a plaster version of it sat out front, where someone was continually chipping off its ears. When you challenged someone to a fight, you'd say, "Meet me at the panther after school," and they knew exactly what you meant.
The panther sat in the grassy middle of the circle in front of the school where the buses would line up, waiting to take people home. So if you weren't brave enough to actually stand around the panther and watch the fight, you could watch it from the buses.
Usually, the fights started with a lot of taunting and name-calling, a little shoving. There weren't usually too many blows exchanged before the assistant principal, Mr. Morgan, ran out to stop them. Now when anyone saw Mr. Morgan coming, everyone would scatter, because if you were caught watching the fight, you'd get detention, too.
As the "showdown with Iraq" (as the American media has dubbed it) draws closer to high noon, I've become convinced that, no matter what Mr. Morgan did, he wouldn't be able to prevent a rendezvous at the panther for George W. and Saddam. And once they started their fight, they would continue to beat each other. George W. would have the upper hand with his powerful friends (three who'd participate in the fight, nearly 50 silent supporters). Saddam's face would swell up under the blows, blood smeared on his shirt. And he'd keep declaring, "I'm not beaten! Bring it on!" no matter how hard George W. tried to beat the smile off his face.
When Joe Lieberman was asked what he would have done differently, he said he, too, would have gone to Congress and the United Nations. He, too, would have given an ultimatum when it became time. But he said he would have spent the first two years of his presidency building more international goodwill. He wouldn't have backed out of treaties and refused to sign international agreements such as the Kyoto Protocol.
George W. didn't play nice with anybody, but would stamp his foot and say no. He alienated a lot of potential allies who today are paying him back. No one denies that Saddam is a bully; but being a bigger bully endears you to no one.
Walking through the chill morning, the gray world holds its breath, hoping for brighter news.
Moral:
Thank goodness they didn't have chemical weapons in high school.
Copyright 2003 by Alyce Wilson
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