the just war, love, and writing

The US media is focusing quite a bit on Libya right now.  One of the most interesting questions that I have only heard a single pundit ask on twitter, without any subsequent answer or dialogue in any other medium was: Who are the rebels in Libya?  We are so focused on Gadhafi that I think most Americans assume the rebels are good guys--that Egypt arming them and the coalition bombing Gadhafi is a good thing.  I don't know.  Maybe they are good guys.  Maybe they are Islamic fundamentalists bent on bringing jihad to a mall near you.  Don't know.  Nobody's talking about them.  Instead, there is a lot of dialogue about "just war."  That protecting the civilians of Libya is the first opportunity for "just war" since Bosnia and what should have been Rwanda.

Since my goal in this blog is not to write about how I feel about the fine line between voluntary human shields and combatants, but to write about writing, I want to focus on the concept of "just war" and why it inspires me. 


I loved my grandpa.  We had a pretty special relationship.  By all accounts from family and friends he was an angry, bitter, violent man.  From stories, I know that he was abusive, prejudiced, and reveled in being mean.  But that's not the grandpa I saw.


My grandpa let me brain his comb-over down the wrong side of his head to play Indian chief.  He took me to the beach on cold days and walked up and down the boardwalk plying me with hot dogs while we talked about the solar system and Greek mythology.  He kidnapped me for the day to drive up to Maine so we could have lobster rolls for lunch.  He would growl at me--an imitation of his fierce persona to the rest of the world--and I growled back.  My grandpa loved me more than anything in the world and I was the exception to just about every rule of how he behaved in the world.


While this was an awesome experience as a little girl, it rather destroyed my capacity to have a realistic, loving romantic relationship for a while.  Prior to finding my husband and finally understanding what it means to be an equal member in a relationship, I expected all of my boyfriends to be like my grandpa.  Namely, I wanted them to prove their love by being the exceptions to their rules.  

Is art the most important thing to you?  Nope, I am now.
Are you a good boy who never breaks the rules?  You will for me.
A jerk who can't settle down?  It's not settling when it's me.

This was unfair to them, unfair to me, and didn't end well for anyone.


While being the exception to the rule is no fair expectation in a real-world romantic relationship, it makes a strong statement in fiction.  In fact, it is short-hand in just about every romantic comedy for "he really does love her."  Richard Gear climbing the fire escape in Pretty Woman.  While it is unfortunate that people have gotten lazy using the trope, it works for a reason, and not just in love.


My stage combat professor (who is coming up in blog posts quite a bit lately) once asked my class, "what is worth fighting for?"  Mind you, he asked this to a room full of liberal college kids.  Most people said, "Nothing!  Fighting is never justified!"  I caught quite a bit of shit when I raised my hand and said, "My family.  You try to hurt my dad or my sister and you bet I will hurt you."


I am not a violent person, but protecting my family is the exception to my rule.


This brings me back to Libya and the "just war."


I don't know whether the rebels in Libya are fighting a just war, and whether the coalition backing them are either.  I don't have enough information to make a call on that.  But I find the concept fascinating.  No one questions whether the Allies were fighting a just war in WWII.  Everyone knows that not interceding in Rwanda was unjust.  "Just wars" involve an entire country or culture choosing collectively to find an exception to the general rule that war is bad.  This is powerful.


When people decide that one person or cause is more important to them than the general paradigm of how they interact with the world, that makes for some intense stakes, some real drama.  It makes for good story-telling, whether in the headlines or fiction.