Perspective

I finally started my new job in the Pentagon, and it has given me plenty on which to reflect. One of the greatest gifts of this Olmsted experience has been the broadening of my own perspective. This has come in many forms: relationships with new people, life in a different culture, visiting new places, speaking new languages, and meeting incredibly talented officers from other branches of service. Sometimes, new perspective comes from a simple conversation.

Back in June, amidst our moving extravaganza of trans-Atlantic travel and trying to get our whole family back to the states, Elizabeth & I had the opportunity to attend the annual Olmsted Banquet in DC. Due to some fortunate timing, we were asked to address the new class of scholars of 2015, and tell a little of our adventures and experiences in Tel Aviv. This was a lot of fun for us, and hopefully not too boring for the listeners. Later that evening at the banquet we got to meet & sit with the new Jerusalem scholar, Jenn Flynn, as well as many of the older Olmsted Scholars who are still serving in the military or have since retired. This dinner is a seriously posh event in downtown DC, and Elizabeth and I usually feel a little kids at the big table when we get to go.

We sat with retired Army General John Abizaid and his wife, Kathy. They are incredibly approachable, warm folks, who just happen to be the first Olmsted scholars ever sent to Jordan back in 1978 (when most everyone went to study somewhere in Europe--West of the Iron curtain). I love talking to Gen Abizaid, and I especially enjoy listening to what he has to say. I met him back in 2010, and I have since read about him in a numerous books and articles. He had a distinguished career where he eventually worked all the way up the chain to become the four-star CENTCOM commander in 2003, running wars in Iraq and Afghanistan until 2007.  When I walk to my office in the Pentagon, I see his picture on the wall from when he was the J5 Commander (Director of Strategic Plans & Policy), back when he was a lowly 3-star. The guy is basically my professional hero, not only for his accomplishments, and his impressive education, but for his willingness to tell it like it is.

Over the course of dinner, we talked a lot about the challenges and humor of living in Israel. They knew what it was like to be new kids on the block over there because they had spent a year in Israel as well. Then the conversation got a little more serious when current Middle East events came up, particularly the current violence in Iraq. He said to me, "Stew, did you know that it’s almost more violent in Bagdad today than when I was in charge there back in 06? I mean, I don’t know when we’re going to stop pretending that we won this thing.” I appreciate this kind of straight-talk, but it was also disheartening to hear. I believed in our mission in Iraq, that deposing tyrants and fighting terrorists was the business of the good guys. I remember flying 2 separate combat sorties over Iraq on the day of their first elections back in 2005. I thought we were making real change for people there, and I was truly proud of that. I'm confident that we were trying our best to make things better for them. However, I also had my doubts. I remember thinking on many sorties, how can we defeat an ideology with bombs? I don’t care how advanced our technology is, that math simply doesn't add up. You kill one bad guy, and wind up inspiring half his family and friends to joint the cause. Bullets are no match for ideas, especially bad ones.

I’m pretty sure I was not the only airman drilling holes in the sky on deployment after deployment, all-the-while wondering if this massive effort was going to result in any real change for the people on the ground. Today I’m far more cynical that it has. Abizaid said that the people of the Middle East are very near and dear to his heart, and I believe him. He is of Lebanese decent, he learned Arabic, studied in Jordan, and has basically specialized in that area of the world for his entire career. But I got the feeling that he wasn’t fully convinced that the people there want their hearts and minds won over to what we’re trying to offer them. I understand his point, and after living in that region for the past two years, I’m beginning to agree. It’s not that people don’t want freedom or peace or better lives, but it's a complicated region. Really complicated. Westerners don't really comprehend the depth and multitude of cultural, religious, and political tensions in that region. I lived in Israel long enough to recognize that it’s a seriously complex little country in a seriously complicated part of the world. But recognition is a far cry from real understanding. In the Middle East, its almost as if you need permission from your past to move forward, and on so many fronts, unresolved conflicts continue to resurface and be fought over and over again.

I’m not sure that this makes me a realist or a pessimist. Perhaps there's not much difference. I don’t have any genuine hope for Israeli/Palestinian peace or a two-state solution. I used to, but I think there’s too much history and not enough trust between the two sides for it to work (although I do think it is in everyone's best interests, including our own). I also have serious doubts that countries like Egypt and Tunisia will emerge from these years of upheaval with anything resembling a Western Democracy. Egypt could easily end up in civil war pretty soon. I can only pray for those poor souls in Syria. I pray for us here in the US, too, especially when I consider how clumsily we have responded to atrocities there. It's embarrassing. So when I sit and listen to someone with far more understanding than I'll ever have on these issues, I starting to see the wisdom in minimizing our involvement in affairs that are not our own. But one thing I know for sure...I'll never pass up a chance to drink a beer & talk with my mentors, like General Abizaid. That always helps me gain a little more perspective.

Shalom Ya'll, Stew