Destpêka her roja sersalê ez digel çend hevalên xwe diçim Gola Michigan. Em li bendê digerin ku çi, tenê şeş meh berê, bera Chicago ya germ bû. Dûv re em di nav berfên serşok û pêlavên xwe de berfê kûr-kûr diçin, bi tofanên bagerê û hengavan re şer dikin. Zû yan dereng, em digihîjin cîhê ku berfa berfê digihîje hev û di nav qalikek qeşagirtî ya qeşaya golê de, bi qîrîn û sondxwarinê gava ku em di nav ava nêzika cemedê de dimijin vedixwin.
Demek ji min hat ku ez fêr bibim ku çima ez her sal vî karî dikim, an ji bo vê yekê çima di dehsala paşîn de ji dema ku ez ji artêşê veqetiyam min bi rêkûpêkiyek wusa bêserûber êşên cûreyên din jî bi xwe re birîn. Weke mînak, di pir rojan de, ez li salona sporê giranan radikim û digihijînim westandina seqet. Di şevên havînê de, ez carinan bi tena serê xwe aligarên porê xwe di nav ava reş a Gola Michigan re vedikişînim û digerim tiştê ku ez dikarim tenê wekî hestek ketinê binav bikim.
Çend sal berê, ez li seranserê meşiyan Dewletên Yekbûyî yên Amerîkayê bi 50 lîre li ser pişta min ji bo Weqfa Pat Tillman di hewleke çavsor de xwe ji şerê "min" xelas kir. Di dawiya hefteyê de, ez bi heman obesesiyonê mala xwe paqij dikim. It's rast e, carinan ez pir vedixwim.
In part, it seems, I’ve been in search of creative ways to frighten myself, apparently to relive the moments in the military I said I never wanted to go through again — or so a psychiatrist told me anyway. According to that doctor (and often I think I’d be the last to know), I’m desperately trying to recreate adrenalizing moments like the one when, as an Army Ranger, I jumped out of an airplane at night into an area I had never before seen, not sure if I was going to be shot at as I hit the ground. Or I’m trying to recreate the energy I felt leaping from a Blackhawk helicopter, night vision goggles on, and storming my way into some nameless Afghan family’s home, where I would proceed to throw a sandbag over someone’s head and lead him off to an American-controlled, Guantánamo-like prison in his own country.
Ev bijîşk dibêje ev ji bo bêhêvîbûna min têra xwe hevpar e ku dixwaze hesta fêrbûnê ya ku hevalê min nû ji hêla bombeya li rex rê ve hat teqandin dema ku ew li dora du sibehê li dewriyê geriya, demek ku pir mirovên normal di xew de ne. Bi rengek, di demjimêrên herî ecêb de, hişê min ew guncan dibîne ku demên ku roket li şevê li çadirekî min ê dûrî Afganistanê ketin, ji nû ve bileyze. An jî gava ku ez ji hêla artêşê ve hatim girtin piştî ku çûm AWOL wekî yek ji yekem Rangers Artêşa ku hewl dida ji beşdarbûna Globalerê Glover ê Terorê yê George W. Bush re bibêje na.
Ez niha haydar im, ji ber ku ez çend sal şûnda venegeriyam, ku daxwaza min a piştî-şer ji bo ceribandina sînoran ne azmûn e ji ezmûnên pêş-malê yên pirên ku di van salan de çûne şer li Afganistan an Iraqraqê û, ji bo hin ji wan, ji hêla çêdike suicide rates among Global War on Terror vets, the urge has proven so much more extreme than mine. But more than a decade after leaving the army as a conscientious objector, I can at least finally own up to and testify to the eeriness of what we all brought home from America’s twenty-first-century wars, even those of us who weren’t bi laşî seqet kirin an ji hêla wan ve têne perçekirin.
And here’s the good news at a purely personal level: the older I get the less I’m inclined towards such acts of masochism, of self-inflicted pain. Part of the change undoubtedly involves age — I hesitate to use the word “maturity” yet — but there’s another reason, too. I found a far better place to begin to put all that stored up, jumpy energy. I began speaking to high school students heavily propagandized by the U.S. military on the charms, delights, and positives of war, American-style, about my own experiences and that, in turn, has been changing my life. I’d like to tell you about it.
Valahiyan dagirtin
The first time I went to speak to high school students about my life with the Rangers in Afghanistan, I was surprised to realize that the same nervous energy I felt before jumping into Lake Michigan or lacing up my gym shoes for a bone-shaking work-out was coursing through my body. But here was the strangest thing: when I had said my piece (or perhaps I really mean “my peace”) with as much honesty as I could muster, I felt the very sense of calmness and resolution that I’d been striving for with my other rituals and could never quite hang onto come over me — and it stayed with me for days.
That first time, I was one of the few white people in a deteriorating Chicago public high school on the far south side of the city. A teacher is escorting me down multiple broad, shabby hallways to the classroom where I was to speak. We pass a room decorated with a total of eight American flags, four posted on each side of its door. “The recruiting office,” the teacher says, gesturing toward it, and then asks, “Do they have recruiting offices in the suburban schools you talk to?”
“Ez ne bawer im. Min hêj di vê mijarê de bi tu kesî re neaxiviye, ”ez bersivê didim. "Bê guman li dibistana amadeyî ya ku ez çûm yeka wan a eşkere tunebû, lê ez dizanim ku hene 10,000 karmendên li seranserê welêt bi a re dixebitin 700 mîlyon $ a year advertising budget. And I think you’re more likely to see the recruiters in schools where kids have less options after graduation.”
At that moment, we arrive at the appointed classroom and I’m greeted warmly by the social studies teacher who invited me. Photos of Ida B. Wells, Martin Luther King Jr., Malcom X, and other revolutionary black leaders hang neatly on a wall. He first heard about my desire to talk to students about my wartime experiences through Veterans for Peace, an organization I belong to. “There is no counter-narrative to what the kids are being taught by the instructors in Junior ROTC, as far as I can tell,” he says, obviously bothered, as we wait for the students to arrive. “It would be great if you could provide more of a complete picture to these kids.” He then went on to describe the frustration he felt with a Chicago school system in which schools in the taxên herî xizan li bajêr dihatin girtin li a pace tomar, û hê jî, bi rengek, wî navçeya dibistanê her gav dravê wê hebû ku fonkirina Pentagonê ya bernameya JROTC (Perwerdehiya Zabitayê Reserveê Ciwan).
Zarok nû dest bi parzûnê dikin, dikenin û mîna ciwanên ku ew tevdigerin. Ez cesaret nakim.
Mamoste dibêje: "Temam, her kes, rûnin, îro axaftvanek meyê mêvan heye." Ew baweriya xwe bi rengek ku ez tenê dixwazim ku ez bibim xwedî dike. Hejmar di jûreyê de ji ber ku tiştek ber bi hêşînek nêz dibe ve dimire. Ew eşkere jê re rêz digirin. Ez tenê hêvî dikim ku piçek ji wê di riya min de biherike.
Ez kêliyek dudil im û dûv re dest pê dikim, û li vir bi kêmî ve beşek ji tiştên ku min got û çi qewimî ji bîranînê raporek piçûk heye:
"Spas," ez dest pê dikim, "ji bo ku ez îro hatim. Navê min Rory Fanning e û ez li vir im ku ji we re vebêjim çima ez ketim leşkeriyê. Ez ê her weha qala tiştê ku min dît dema ku ez di wê artêşê de bûm, û çima ez berî ku peymana min xilas bibe ez derketim. ” Bêdengiya li polê dirêj dibe, ku min teşwîq dike û ez dikevim hundur.
“I signed up for the Army Rangers to have my student loans paid for and to do my part to prevent another terrorist attack like 9/11… My training was sometimes difficult and usually boring… A lot of food and sleep deprivation. Mostly, I think my chain of command was training me in how to say yes to their orders. The military and critical thinking don’t mix too well…”
As I talk on about the almost indescribable poverty and desperation I witnessed in Afghanistan, a country that has known nothing but occupation and civil war for decades and that, before I arrived, I knew less than nothing about, I could feel my nervousness abating. “The buildings in Kabul,” I was telling them, “have gaping holes in them and broken-down Russian tanks and jets litter the countryside.”
I can hardly restrain my amazement. The kids are still with me. I’m now explaining how the U.S. military handed out thousands of dollars to anyone willing to identify alleged members of the Taliban and how we would raid houses based on this information. “I later came to find out that this intelligence, heke hûn dikarin wiya bi nav bikin, bi rengek bêhêvîtiyê re bû bingeh. ” Ez vebêjim ka çima Afganek di nav xizaniya jar de, ku li rê û rêbazên piştgirîkirina malbata xwe digere, dibe ku amade be ku hema hema her kesê di berdêla gihîştina bîrên kûr ên drav the U.S. military could call on. In a world where factories are few, and office jobs scarce indeed, people will do anything to survive. They have to.
I point out the almost unbearable alien quality of Afghan life to American military officials. Few spoke a local language. No one I ever ran into knew anything about the culture of the people we were trying to bribe. Too often we broke down doors and snatched Afghans from their homes not because of their ties with either the Taliban or al-Qaeda, but because a neighbor had a grudge against them.
"Piraniya kesên ku me hedef girtin hîç têkiliya wan bi Talîban re tune. Hinekan jî pabendî dagirkirina DYE bûn, lê ev ne girîng bû. ” Ew hîn jî bi qulpikên li ser serê xwe û li hin girtîgeha xwedê terk kirin.
By now, I can tell that the kids are truly paying attention, so I let it all out. “The Taliban teslîm bûbû çend meh berî ku ez di dawiya 2002-an de bigihîjim Afganistanê, lê ev ji bo siyasetmedarên me yên vegeriyan malê û generalên ferman didin ew qas baş nebû. Karê me ev bû ku em mirovan vegerînin şer. ”
Two or three students let out genuine soft gasps as I describe how my company of Rangers occupied a village school and our commander cancelled classes there indefinitely because it made an excellent staging point for the troops — and there wasn’t much a village headmaster in rural Afghanistan could say to dissuade history’s most technologically advanced and powerful military from doing just what it wanted to. “I remember,” I tell them, “watching two fighting-age men walk by the school we were occupying. One of them didn’t show an acceptable level of deference to my first sergeant, so we grabbed them. We threw the overly confident guy in one room and his friend in another, and the guy who didn’t smile at us properly heard a gunshot and thought, just as he was meant to, that we had just killed his friend for not telling us what we wanted to hear and that he might be next.”
"Ew mîna îşkenceyê ye," zarokek nîvpişkûve.
I then talk about why I’m more proud of leaving the military than of anything I did while in it. “I signed up to prevent another 9/11, but my two tours in Afghanistan made me realize that I was making the world less safe. We know now that a majority of the mîlyon an wusa mirovên ku ji 9/11-an ve hatine kuştin sivîlên bêguneh bûn, mirovên ku beşdarî lîstikê nebûn û sedemek wan tunebû ku şer bikin heya ku, pir caran têra xwe, arteşa Dewletên Yekbûyî bi kuştina an birîndar kirina endamek malbatê yê ku pir caran temaşevanek bêguneh bû. ”
"Ma tu dizanî," ez berdewam dikim, jiberkirin a statistic cited from University of Chicago political scientist Robert Pape, “that ‘from 1980 to 2003, there were 343 suicide attacks around the world, and at most 10% were anti-American inspired. Since 2004, there have been more than 2,000, over 91% against U.S. and allied forces in Afghanistan, Iraq, and other countries.’ I didn’t want to be part of this so I left.”
Daxuyaniya tevahî
Chicago-area high school students aren’t used to hearing such talk. The public school system here has the largest number of Junior ROTC students — hema 10,000 of them, 45% African American and 50% Latino — of any school district in the country. And maybe so many of these kids are attentive exactly because the last thing JROTC instructors are likely to be discussing is the realities of war, including, for instance, the jimareya serhişk kalên bêmal ên Iraq û Afganistanê nekarin piştî ezmûna xwe ya li derveyî welêt asîmîle bikin nav civakê.
Gava ku ez ji xwendekaran tika dikim ku li ser şer û jiyana wan beşdarî axaftina min bibin, ez çîrokên li ser xwişk û birayên mezin ên ku bi bangewaziyên telemarketer-şêwekar ji nûvekaran re dilşikestî dibihîsim. Yek dibêje: "Ew pir aciz e," "Birayê min jî nizane ka nûkêşker çawa agahdariya xwe girtiye."
"Ez dibêjim:" Karkeran di vê dibistanê de ji bo her jûpîr û pîr agahdariya têkiliyê heye, " "That's ew e qanûn. Çalakiya Ne Zarok Li Paşî Çû, ku piştî 9/11-an zû hat îmzekirin, israr dike ku dibistana we agahdariya we radestî Wezareta Parastinê bike ger ku ew dixwaze fonên federal bistîne. "
Soon enough, it becomes clear that these students have very little context for their encounters with the U.S. military and its promises of an uplifting future. They know next to nothing, for instance, about our recent history in Iraq and Afghanistan, or our permanent state of war in the Greater Middle East and zêde li Afrîka. When I ask why so many of them signed up for the JROTC program, they talk about “leadership” opportunities and “structure” for their lives. They are focused, as I was, on having college paid for or “seeing the world.” Some say they are in JROTC because they didn’t want to take gym class. One offers this honest assessment: “I don’t know, I just am. I haven’t given it much thought.”
Çawa ku ez wan dişewitînim, wusa jî ew min dişewitînin. "Malbata we di derbarê derketina weya leşkerî de çi difikire?" yek dipirse.
“Well,” I respond, “we don’t talk about it too much. I come from a very pro-military family and they prefer not to think of what we are doing overseas as wrong. I think this is why it took me so long to speak honestly in public about my time in the military.”
"Faktorên din li ser biryara we giran bûn ku hûn bi eşkere li ser ezmûna weya leşkerî biaxivin, an ew tenê tirsa ji bersiva malbata we bû?" xwendekarek zana dipirse.
And I answer as honestly as I can: “Even though, as far as I know, I did something no one in the Rangers had yet done in the post-9/11 era — the psychological and physical vetting process for admission to the Ranger Regiment makes the likelihood of a Ranger questioning the mission and leaving the unit early unlikely - I was intimidated. I shouldn’t have been, but my chain of command had me leaving the military looking over my shoulder. They made it seem as if they could drag me off to jail or send me back into the military to be a bullet stopper in the big Army at any time if I ever talked about my service in the Rangers. I did after all, like all Rangers, have a secret security clearance.” Heads shake. “The military and paranoia go hand in hand. So I kept quiet,” I tell the kids. “I also started reading books like Anand Gopal’s Ne Zilamek Di nav Living Living, nûçegihanek çîroka biriqî ya êrişa me ya Afganistanê wekî ku ji perspektîfa Afganiyên rastîn ve hatî vegotin. I min dest bi hevdîtina kevnareyên ku xwedan ezmûnên mîna yên min bûn û digotin kir. Vê yekê baweriya min zêde kir. "
“Is the military like Call of Duty?” one of the students asks, referring to a popular single-shooter video game.
“I’ve never played,” I respond. “Does it include kids who scream when their mothers and fathers are killed? Do a lot of civilians die?”
"Ne rast e," ew bi nerehetî dibêje.
"Welê, wê hingê ew ne realîst e. Wekî din, hûn dikarin lîstikek vîdyoyê vemirînin. Hûn nekarin şer vemirînin. ”
A quiet settles over the room that even a lame joke of mine can’t break. Finally, after a silence, one of the kids suddenly says, “I’ve never heard anything like this before.”
What I feel is the other side of that response. That first experience of mine talking to America’s future cannon fodder confirms my assumption that, not surprisingly, the recruiters in our schools aren’t telling the young anything that might make them think twice about the glories of military life.
Ez bi hestek bêhempa ya aramiyê ji wê dibistanê derdikevim, tiştek ku min ji dema ku li Afganistanê dest pê kiriye hîs nekiriye. Ez ji xwe re dibêjim ku ez dixwazim heftê carek bi dersan re biaxivim. Ez têgihîştim ku ew 10 sal ji min re kişand, dema ku dinivîsim jî pirtûk on the subject, to build up the courage to talk openly about my years in the military. If only I had begun engaging these kids earlier instead of punishing myself for the experience George W. Bush, Dick Cheney, and their cohorts put me through. Suddenly, some of my resident paranoia seems to melt away, and the residual guilt I still felt for leaving the Rangers early and in protest — the chain of command left me believing that there was nothing more cowardly than “deserting” your Ranger buddies — seems to evaporate, too.
My thought now is full disclosure going forward. If a teenager is going to sign up to kill and die for a cause or even the promise of a better life, then the least he or she should know is the good, the bad, and the ugly about the job. I had no illusions that plenty of kids — maybe most of them, maybe all of them — wouldn’t sign up anyway, regardless of what I said. But I swear to myself: no moralism, no regrets, no judgments. That’s my credo now. Just the facts as I see them.
Mîsyonek Nû
I’m on an operation and that feels strangely familiar. Think of it as a different way to be a Ranger in a world that will never, it seems, be truly postwar. But as with all things in one’s mind: easier said than done. The world, it turns out, is in no rush to welcome me on my new mission.
Ez dest bi bangan dikim. Ez diafirînim malpera to advertise my talk. I send out word to teacher friends that I’m available to speak in their schools. I’m prepared for my schedule to fill up within weeks, but a month passes and no one calls. The phone just doesn’t ring. I grow increasingly frustrated. Fortunately, a friend tells me about a grant sponsored by the Chicago Teachers Union and designed to expose kids to real world educational experiences they may not hear about in school. I apply, promising to speak to 12 of the 46 schools in Chicago with JROTC programs during the 2015/2016 school year. The grant comes through in September and better yet it promises that each student I talk to will also get a free copy of my book, Hêjahî Ji Bo Forer.
I don’t for a second doubt that this will ensure my presence in front of classrooms of kids. I have nine long months to arrange meetings with only 12 schools. I decide that I’ll even throw in some extra schools as a bonus. I create a facebook page so that teachers and principals can learn about my talk and book me directly. Notices of both my website and that page are placed in teacher newsletters and I highlight the Chicago Teachers Union endorsement in them. I’m thinking: slam dunk! I even advertise on message boards, spend money on targeted ads on Facebook, and again reach out to all my teacher friends.
Naha Avrêl e, heft meh di sala xwendinê de maye, û tenê du mamosteyan ez rahiştim pêşniyara axaftinê. "Ew bi xwendekaran re rehet bû û mijûl dibû û di ramanên xwendekaran de roja din ew kesek bû ku xwendekar bi zelalî pê re diaxifîn. Ez ê teqez ji wî bipirsim ku vegere her sal bi dersên min re biaxive, ”nivîsand Dave Stieber, yek ji wan mamosteyan e.
It’s finally starting to dawn on me, however. In our world, life is scary and I’m not the only one heading for Lake Michigan on cold winter mornings or gloomy nights. Teachers out there in the public schools are anxious, too. It’s dark days for them. They are under attack and mijûlî şer kirinê li dijî taybetmendîkirina dibistanan, girtin û destdirêjiyên siyasî yên li ser teqawidiya wan. Bernameya populer JROTC e çêlekek kaş ji bo dibistanên wan û ew ji hêdî hêdî dihejandina keştiyek berê xwe di avên qeşeng de dilşikestî ne.
You’ll bring too much “tension” to our school, one teacher tells me with regret. “Most of my kids need the military if they plan on going to college,” I hear from another who says he can’t invite me to his school anyway. But most of my requests simply go out into the void unanswered. Or promises to invite me go unfulfilled. Who, after all, wants to make waves or extracurricular trouble when teachers are already under fierce attack from Mayor Rahm Emanuel and his unelected school board?
Ez fam dikim û hîn jî, li cîhanek bêyî pêşnûma, lûleya dibistanê-leşkerî ya JROTC ji bo Washingtonê xetek zindî ye şerê mayînde across the Greater Middle East and parts of Africa. Its unending conflicts are only possible because kids like those I’ve talked to in the few classrooms I’ve visited continue to volunteer. The politicians and the school boards, time and again, claim their school systems are broke. No money for books, teacher’s salaries and pensions, healthy lunches, etc…
Yet hê jî, di 2015 de, hukûmeta amerîkî xerc kir 598 milyar $ li ser artêşê, ji nîvî zêdetir butçeya xweya bijarte ya giştî, û hema hema 10 qat çi ye li ser perwerdehiyê derbas kir. In 2015, we also learned that the Pentagon continues to pour what, it is estimated, will in the end be 1.4 trilyon $ into a fleet of fighter planes that may never work as advertised. Imagine the school system we would have in this country if teachers were compensated as well as weapons contractors. Confronting the attacks on education in the U.S. should also mean, in part, trying to interrupt that school-to-military pipeline in places like Chicago. It’s hard to fight endless şerên trîlyon dolarî heke zarok nabin leşker.
Tenê roja din ez li zanîngehek li Peoria, sê saetan li başûrê Chicago-yê, axivîm. "Birayê min ji dema ku ji returningraqê vegeriyaye malê derneketiye," yek ji xwendekaran bi hêsirên çavên xwe ji min re got. "Ya ku te got alîkariya min kir ku ez rewşa wî baştir fam bikim. Dibe ku nuha bêtir gotinên min hebibin. "
Ew celeb şîrove bû ku anî bîra min ku ji bo tiştê ku ez bêjim temaşevanek heye. Tenê pêdivî ye ku ez fêhm bikim ka meriv çawa ji dergevanan re derbas dibe. Ji min bawer bikin, ez ê berdewam bikim ku li ser binivîsim, bipejirînim, û dilxwaziya xwe reklam bikim ku ez bi zarokên ku di demek nêzîk de-leşkerî li Chicago-yê bipeyivim. Ez dev jê bernadim, ji ber ku bi dilsozî behsa serpêhatiyên xwe dikim êdî tedawiya min e. Di dawiya rojê de, bi qasî ku ez difikirim ku ew hewceyê min in, ez hewceyê wan xwendekaran im.
Rory Fanning, a TomDispatch rêzbirêz, nivîskar e Hêjayî şerkirinê ye: Rêwîtiya Rangerek Artêşê Ji Leşkerî û Li seranserê Amerîka û hev-nivîskarê pirtûka bê Long Shot: Têkoşîn û Serkeftinên Şervanek Azadiya NBA. You can reach out to him on Twitter at @rtfanning
ZNetwork tenê bi comerdîtiya xwendevanên xwe ve tê fînanse kirin.
Bêşdan