Opinion The calm before war

I'm not the only one in Sisters who wonders if we will soon be at war.

Down at the Gallery Restaurant, the girls at the coffee counter are debating the distinct possibility of it with their suppertime regulars.

Astute merchandise managers in town have pulled in a few book titles related to the "Showdown with Saddam," and conversations over soup and salad at the Depot Deli hush for a moment as we eavesdrop on the knowing phrase that always starts something like, "Well, but if we go to war, though..."

Area Christians seem divided. In a prayer meeting at one Sisters house of worship, a peaceable family man asked everyone to pray that God would help us "get Saddam out of there and set up a democratic government in Iraq."

I said I couldn't do that, but I'd pray for His hand to orchestrate matters relevant to the diplomatic debacle that may soon explode in bloodshed on a global scale.

"I have three sons in their 20s, John," I said.

"And maybe it's selfish, but I've always prayed that there would not be war in our time...unless it was in defense of the innocent, thus could not be avoided."

I walk by Sisters Video, where Apocalypse Now, Saving Private Ryan and other classic war movies are "hot renters" these days.

Pass a newspaper stand in front of the Harvest Basket that screams "B-1 Bombers Deploy for Possible War" as a cavalcade of cars with American flag stickers drives by.

So when did being against war come to mean that you are un-American? I wonder, in a flashback to 1968.

Am I a hawk, or a dove, as a believer -- or some "strange bird" in between? And at what point, if any, would even the Prince of Peace take up arms against "the dark side of the Force?"

Meanwhile, OPB's Alternative Radio thunders out endless political speeches by "conscious" university professors like Noam Chomsky and Howard Zinn, who explain how open conflict is always inevitable when Third World countries -- passively or aggressively -- at last refuse the despotism of U.S. Imperialism.

Conservative moms of 20-something-year-olds, however, find more common ground discussing current legislation aimed at reinstituting the draft and other unthinkable military possibilities. Why?

Our cohort is perfectly positioned to remember protest rallies against the Vietnam War. In fact -- we took part in them.

We wrote letters to kids from Roseburg singing "I Can't Get No Satisfaction" in Saigon and got steel bead chain necklaces with dog tags and photographs of young soldiers back in the mail.

We kissed the boys goodbye when they left for Vietnam, then attended their funerals and married the drug-addicted, Agent Orange and PTSD victims that came home.

Over at Coyote Creek, a guy in a booth goes off loudly about how we "lose more people in traffic accidents every year -- over 50,000--than we lost in the whole Vietnam War."

Impressive statistics, unless you are the mother of My Three Sons, in which case coffee shop talk and patriotic prayer requests are unconvincing arguments for a new war.

"War is a force that gives us meaning," says foreign correspondent Chris Hedges, author of a new book by the same title, recounting his own years covering the conflicts in Southeast Asia, Iraq, and Bosnia.

"There is a part of me," says Hedges, "--maybe it is a part of many of us--that decided at certain moments that I would rather die like this than go back to the routine of life.

"The chance to exist for an intense and overpowering moment, even if it meant certain oblivion, seemed worth it in the midst of war -- and very stupid once the war ended."

Even in small-town Sisters, the divided voices of people debating "whether we should or should not" launch an attack against Iraq echo on every street corner.

They divide our hearts and define our social groups. Setting fire to our fences, they command us to take a position and take up arms to defend it.

To this extent, whether we do or do not open fire in the Middle East, we are perhaps already at war.