Monday, January 31, 2005

What Kind of Person Kills?

I have been reading a story of a Bosnian man, who is not dissimilar to my taxi driver last week. The man was a soldier in Bosnia during the war, known as Kole. He served three years for not doing enough to prevent ethnic massacres.

I am reminded of the face of the taxi driver - the hooked nose and hawk-like eyes, eyelids dropped warily as he peers out from underneath. The man is from Yugoslavia, not Bosnia, not that he denies it so blatantly, rather, he explains that he is from Sarajevo in Yugoslavia. He is quiet then.

I wonder how many people know what it is like to fight, or who can understand the inevitability of death in a desperate situation (and in the end anyhow). I think that certain people live with death always at the door, people perhaps who have to fend off starvation or poverty in any form, people who must endure bias or intolerance of any sort. I listen to my compatriots speak of "government corruption" and the pointlessness of voting. I listen to people my age talking about being broke in reference to staying in for a night or two, and I'm guilty of that one too. I've heard people even in South America complain of being hard-done-by, and people describing deaths as "unthinkable" and "monsterous". I've heard people proudly announce how autopsies on telly interest them, and watched them squirm slightly as they attend to the disection, determined to watch everything, entranced by humans' morbid curiosity.

I wonder how many people think of it the way I do?

Death is stark in its simplicity. The manner of death is what is frightening, along with the inability to discern what has changed to make a living creature into a stinking shell. I firmly believe that we are bred to survive, and that if that survival is threatened, that we will kill if we deem it necessary, and if we are able. I think we humans are fickle and that when it suits us we alternately cry out how we would never succumb to murder or how we would kill to defend our children/siblings/freedom. I cringe at the need for people to believe that they are "right" and see the "truth" of wars, because quite often it seems to me to be mixed with an inability to balance the knowledge given with the facts you will never know.

I admire guerrilla fighters. Known for many years under many derogatory terms (terrorist/insurgent/freedom fighters/rebels) they embody the force of determination against might. I am raised to believe in and support "lost" causes, as many wars involving a struggle for independence are deemed to be. I admire the ability of a soldier to go to war with a very real understanding of what they face, as opposed to feeling infallible due to the might of their army. Their losses are rarely recorded and even more rarely remembered. They are not fools who follow blindly, but rather individuals who live as well and fast as they could, determined to secure an even better living for themselves if possible, but failing that, for others. It is a career and take determination similar to any other career.

I also admire the intelligence necessary in order to make such a command work. Don't get me wrong - I abhorr the idea of killing and the need to kill to make the news and make your cause valid. But I understand it. People are very quick to condemn me for this, as though I have tapped into a fear of theirs that involves admitting that they too can be stone cold on occasion.

Sometimes I think it is like medicine. As a medical student you have the desire to help humans, and ease their suffering. In order to do so you have to overcome a very natural horror of wounds and infections, and especially as a surgeon, cutting into live flesh. But your reason is to help others. And occasionally you will be responsible for deaths, in the belief that you are helping. If you allow the sorrow or difficulties to interfere with your mission, then you lose your ability to be of use. I think that fighting for liberty can be seen in this way.

I do not expect people to agree. And part of me is repulsed by what I have put down also. But I have been in a situation twice where I have had to fight for my life, and once I could not have killed, but the second time I know I would have, had I needed to. I don't know how I feel about that because previously I had thought I was incapable of it. Sometimes I feel strong. Othertimes I am disgusted by that feeling, the urge for strength. Because strength is about living as best you can and fighting or negotiating or feeling the need to impress yourself upon others are all weaknesses akin to attention-seeking. But sometimes there is no choice. And this I firmly believe.

I think it is very easy for a person to make a decision from the comfort of having choices and some stability. I think I cannot even answer this myself.

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