John
Walker Lindh has pleaded not guilty to the charge that he conspired
to kill Americans. It does seem like this religious pilgrim was
caught at the wrong place, on the wrong side, at the wrong time.
He was drawn to Islamic fundamentalism. For him it was the radical
alternative to what he came to regard as the corrupt materialism
of the West. He was there when the U.S. troops came, and now he
faces life in prison.
It was only
20 years ago when members of Aghanistan’s Muhajadeen anti-Soviet
resistance, the Islamo-fundamentalist predecessors to the Taliban,
were being escorted around Washington and put on display as models
of what it means to be a freedom fighter. At the time, Washington
conservatives held views nearly identical to Lindh’s: that we
should join these fighting warriors in their great struggle against
imperial aggression, and not be indifferent like the typical American
living in luxury as others suffer under despotism.
I can recall
one luncheon at the Hotel Washington, in the summer of 1985, where
I rode up an elevator with a tall, scary bearded man who smelled
like he hadn’t showered in months. When we finally reached the
top, I leapt from the elevator and gasped for fresh air. Only
minutes later did I discover that he was our luncheon lecturer.
The gathered conservatives heralded him as the embodiment of Reaganism.
The strange, scary man would rattle off a long angry paragraph
in his language, and then pause while the interpreter explained
to us that this brave freedom fighter had just praised the merits
of "free enterprise, traditional values, and a strong defense."
It was not
illegal to join the Muhajadeen in those days. In fact it was compulsory:
the CIA used tax dollars to provide them weapons, food, and every
manner of logistical support. To be suspicious of the Muhajadeen
was to be objectively pro-Soviet. To back these unkempt Islamic
fanatics, to have them speak at your events, was to be pro-freedom,
pro-family values, pro-America.
But if the
political pilgrims of the right had their own romantic attachments
to foreign peoples and their causes, so did the left. In the summer
of 1987, Nicaragua was under the firm control of the Sandinistas,
and living in their midst was a tribe of German, Canadian, and
American socialist sympathizers who were there to cheer on the
government.
Some were
there for political reasons. Some were just escaping from things
they didn’t like in the U.S.: I recall in particular the actor
Gary Merrill, the fourth husband of Bette Davis, who told all
who would listen that the Sandinistas were the best thing to happen
since the Incarnation.
Others were
there for religious reasons: I met a number of West German students
of theology there to chronicle the progress of liberation-theology
in practice. There were also a number of American feminists who
were sure that Daniel Ortega was going to liberate the women of
Nicaragua from patriarchy.
There were
enough political pilgrims present to support a thriving industry
of communist cafes in Managua. The Soviets were kind enough to
send back issues of Soviet Life for the patrons to read,
and in these cafes the "sandelistas" could sit, suck
on cheap beer, and discuss politics in safe distance from the
Nicaragauan workers and peasants with whom they claimed to sympathize.
These people
were there to help and support enemies of the United States. But
no one would have suggested that they be prosecuted. They were
just loopy leftists hanging around in Managua rather than Berkeley
or Santa Monica. No big deal. In fact, better there than here.
Meanwhile,
the U.S. government was supporting a different group of thugs
from a different Nicaraguan faction, then marching around in the
hills waiting for an opportunity to blast their way into Managua.
They were called the "Contras" and they too were said
to believe in free enterprise, traditional values, and a strong
defense. Some derring-do American rightists even traveled with
them.
I have no
doubt that had the contras actually come to town blasting with
American weapons and accompanied by American military advisors,
a few of the sandelistas would have struggled to oppose them,
the way Lindh did when the Northern Alliance (made up in part
of former Soviet-sympathizers) came to Kabul. But even in this
case, it would have been unseemly to prosecute these deluded lunatics.
People who
come to sympathize and participate in foreign liberation movements--whether
the Sandinistas, the Muhajadeen, or the Taliban are of a particular
type. From Jack Reed to John Walker Lindh, they are young, idealistic,
and usually somewhat deluded. They shield their vision from the
brutality conducted by the regime or movement they support, and,
if they live long enough, they come to regret their actions, and
even laugh at themselves.
What, after
all, is the point of prosecuting them for their politics, their
religion, or their travels? You might say that they should be
charged with treason if they choose sides with the enemy. But
in the 1980s that rule was never applied to the political pilgrims
who sympathized with the communists. In any case, the sides that
an imperial military chooses in a particularly conflict can change
from day to day. You have to have a broad-band internet connection
to keep up. It seems like only yesterday, for example, that the
Taliban
was being wined and dined by Texas oil interests.
In
1961, director David Lean made the spectacular epic Lawrence
of Arabia about T.E. Lawrence’s amazing adventures leading
the Arab people to victory over the Turks and to final independence
during World War I. As a black sheep in England, and somewhat
alienated aristocrat, Lawrence admitted that he went native in
the desert and even attempted to think of himself as Arab, just
the way that John Walker Lindh did. He even wrote a book that
skewered the military brass for their betrayals and conduct of
the war.
He wasn’t
prosecuted or denounced. He was heralded as a romantic hero. He
learned a lesson and in the Seven
Pillars of Wisdom passed it on:
Pray God
that men reading the story will not, for love of the glamour
of strangeness, go out to prostitute themselves and their talents
in serving another race [people].
A man who
gives himself to be a possession of aliens leads a Yahoo life,
having bartered his soul to a brute-master. He is not of them.
He may stand against them, persuade himself of a mission, batter
and twist them into something which they, of their own accord,
would not have been. Then he is exploiting his old environment
to press them out of theirs. Or, after my model, he may imitate
them so well that they spuriously imitate him back again. Then
he is giving away his own environment: pretending to theirs;
and pretences are hollow, worthless things. In neither case
does he do a thing of himself, nor a thing so clean as to be
his own (without thought of conversion), letting them take what
action or reaction they please from the silent example.
In my case,
the effort for these years to live in the dress of Arabs, and
to imitate their mental foundation, quitted me of my English
self, and let me look at the West and its conventions with new
eyes: they destroyed it all for me. At the same time I could
not sincerely take on the Arab skin: it was an affectation only.
Easily was a man made an infidel, but hardly might he be converted
to another faith. I had dropped one form and not taken on the
other, and was become like Mohammed's coffin in our legend,
with a resultant feeling of intense loneliness in life, and
a contempt, not for other men, but for all they do. Such detachment
came at times to a man exhausted by prolonged physical effort
and isolation. His body plodded on mechanically, while his reasonable
mind left him, and from without looked down critically on him,
wondering what that futile lumber did and why. Sometimes these
selves would converse in the void; and then madness was very
near, as I believe it would be near the man who could see things
through the veils at once of two customs, two educations, two
environments.