Courageous Resolve

When the Islamist International, bred and raised by the “Friends of Syria,” whose primary friend has been the United States, launched a brilliant maneuver in expanding the front 180 degrees and gaining vast territory that formerly belonged to pro-American Iraq, the most astonishing thing about it was that no one was particularly surprised.

That it makes no difference to the Islamist internationalists whose lands are given over to fire and sword is implied by their global doctrine. Their objective is the creation of a worldwide Islamic state, and the order in which lands to be included in this state are seized is not so important.

At the moment it is more important that in the west, Assad’s troops in Syria are fighting quite hard against the International, whereas in the east there was really no one to fight, besides which the spoils promised to be rich — a whole lot richer than in Syria.

The motivation of the turnabout was obvious, and to deceive the giaours, that is, the “Friends of Syria,” is not a sin but rather practically a virtue. That the immediate victims of such a development (Mosul’s Christians, the Turks, Iraqi Shiites) were not thrilled was also obvious, but hardly anyone is interested in their opinion.

But it is remarkable that such a betrayal of the West, as a result of which the forces of worldwide democratization suddenly came in for yet another front, did not elicit a violent reaction from the leader of the West’s forces himself. On Feb. 15, 1942, having received news of the crushing defeat in the Far East, Prime Minister Churchill declared in parliament, “Honorable members of the House, Singapore has fallen,” and began to weep.

President Obama carried on with the great mission of democratization in Ukraine, as well as in other places, as if nothing had happened, and upon his lofty brow there was no expression at all.*

Of course, it would be too much to ask senior U.S. officials to become like the characters from “The Iliad,” who, in the intervals between battles, readily shed a tear. The one is an ancient epic, while the other is modern politics. The personalities of the latter demonstrate much greater mettle.

Yet at the same time, the Green International’s victorious Iraqi march-maneuver should be ranked together with the quite dubious U.S. successes in Libya and Syria. As for Egypt, it’s about the same as in Ukraine. It turns out that the establishment of democracy anywhere in partibus infidelium is immediately accompanied by bloody chaos with no end in sight, while it turns out to be somewhat more complicated where the niceties and amenities that democracy, in theory, should bring are concerned. They remain in theory only. And the end to it is nowhere in sight.

Obviously, the U.S. holds the view that the policy “they leave a desert behind them and call it democracy” has no limits in either space or time. Although even a cursory familiarity with world history shows that one can purposely pick on nations only to a certain limit, after which even the most majestic empires crumble. It is unclear why the U.S. considers itself exempt from this common fate.

Again, no one is expecting a substantial revision of U.S. policy: if a power has decided to ride a tiger, its main imperative is not to dismount from the tiger for as long as possible. This explains the unwavering and courageous resolve to democratize the entire world down to the last sea.

If anything is expected of the U.S., it’s probably greater mental adequacy, which in the past has been demonstrated under a similarly resolute policy even by powers incapable of serving as an example of mental adequacy. On Sept. 3, 1939, Reichsmarschall Göring, having received news that Great Britain and France had declared war against Germany, said, “May God help us if we are destined to lose this war.” What’s more, the configuration of forces was still far from certain. The Soviet Union and the U.S. had not yet entered the war, the Anglo-French alliance would act out a drôle de guerre for some time, but it was already clear — and probably not only to Göring — that the situation was decisively turning into a journey into the unknown. And on such a journey, anything can happen.

A well-known irresoluteness was in general characteristic of both the powers and peoples — there was no patriotic fervor in either 1939 or 1941 — because 1914 had dispelled any hopes for a short, victorious campaign. The lesson of World War I was that while war is perhaps unavoidable, it is in any case a terrible, long and unpredictable thing. Hence the desperate “God help us” on Göring’s lips.

The Reichsmarschall’s superstitious fears are alien to the U.S., having itself not suffered through the Old World’s collapse, and in its courageous resolve to democratize everything and anything, it more closely resembles a crazy person with a razor in his hand. He is also courageous and also resolute.

*Translator’s note: Here the author is quoting a passage from Lermontov’s “Demon” in which the eponymous protagonist, in his loneliness and isolation, is described as having no reaction whatsoever to the beauty of God’s earthly creation.