The Fog of War

Image: Command Post Games

I find myself spending less time reading the news these days. Not because there’s less news. (Hah!) Not because I’m disinterested. It’s because so much of the news describes the wars in Gaza and Ukraine. I know these are important reports. I read the headlines. I scan the first few sentences of the articles. But my mind clouds. I cannot seem to follow the maneuvers, tactics, or strategies of Russia, the ground reclaimed by Ukraine; the October 7 inhumanity of Hamas, or Israel’s inhumanity for how many years leading up to that date. Let alone follow how the US’ sticky fingers insert themselves into these festering conflicts.

Sometimes I force myself to read deeper. Only to find myself reading, and rereading the same paragraph. Literally wondering whether the atrocities described are referencing Russians or Ukrainians; Palestinians or Israeli’s.

I’m a reasonably intelligent person, though I’ve long known I don’t possess a military mind. I’m lousy at chess. Miserable at video games. Can barely understand the X’s and O’s of a football diagram. When I read descriptions of battles, my mind retreats to more serene imagery.

Image: EverEdge Global

Perhaps this is due to my limited experience of violence. I have never been hit another human being; nor ever hit one myself. Never aimed a weapon at anyone, pulled a trigger in their direction, or launched a rocket toward someone I despise. I have a terrible temper and have spewed plenty of angry language at plenty of people, yet never once raised my fist to address frustration, abuse, or persecution. I simply have no point of reference that anything can be achieved through violence.

Yet I believe it is the larger question of human-on-human aggression that underpins my inability to fathom war. Like, who ever thought killing each other was a long-term solution to anything? I understand how, in the short term, might makes right. But it also makes simmering oppression that inevitably boils.

There are numerous words for a person of my world view. Pacifist. Clueless. Idealist. Naïve. I bear them all. What twist of life could make me understand, even embrace, the merits of war? If I were a young Russian inspired by Putin to annex what I patriotically believe is rightfully mine? If I were a Ukrainian citizen invaded by a mighty foreign power? If I were an Israeli kibuttzer dependent on a border fence to the keep the Palestinian hordes at bay? If I were a Palestinian, fenced off from a homeland I consider mine? What if I were robbed at gunpoint on the streets of Cambridge? Or perhaps within the shelter of my home? What if North Korea launched a missile aimed at my zip code? Or an invading army from name-your-favorite-terrorist-group conquered Strawberry Hill? What would it take to awaken my mind, my body, and my soul from the fog of war to embracing it as crystalline reality?

I like to think that I will never render violence against another human being. But I’m also aware that, nestled in my safe and cozy community, I’m unlikely to ever suffer what many innocent citizens endure. I hope I never encounter what that breaking point might be. And in the meantime, I hold dear my vision that war is futility, and will share that vision until more men—all men—retreat from warmongering and realize that the only virtue in the fog of war is to make us numb to the notion that war offers a permanent solution to: anything.