Fighting the Good War for Liberty

Today, or I suppose yesterday, was the seventh anniversary of the day that made me what I am today. I would not be a political writer if it were not for September 11th. I would not be interested in history. I would not be considering joining the Air Force. I would not believe so strongly in traditional Republican, conservative values. I would not love America like this. I would not value life--the human spark--so much. I would not know the meaning of sadness as I feel I do. I would still be the child I was back then, seven years ago.

So today--I mean yesterday--felt like a good day to do other hard things, like write Ralph's eulogy for Mark. The beginning and end are too similar to the Gettysburg Address, thus I will quote only the slightly original middle:

“When the assassin held the gun to his temple four days ago, President Adams straightened up and looked at me with the most profound sort of courage. He said, simply in steady voice, ‘Now I become another American martyr; do no let me be the last.’ See, he was always prepared to do whatever was necessary for this great nation, whatever the cost. When he was just eighteen, he swore an oath before the Statue of Liberty to give his life to America—an oath that he fulfilled in full. This might seem foolish to some of you listening—to promise your life away to a flawed, bureaucratic system. So how can we call it laudable for one to damn himself so?
“Because despite its many imperfection, America represents the best in us. She is liberty and truth and justice in the purest forms. And while she may not always carry out these noble goals perfectly, she always tries. That is what matters, and that is what makes her the “city upon a hill” that John Winthrop promised. As Socrates said, ‘The nearest way to glory is to strive to be what you wish to be thought to be.’ The glory is not merely in the outcome but in the intention. Thus, it does not matter if we fight a battle for our ideals and lose; it is the good war we fight in knowing we will lose that matters.
“This is what I learned from Mark in those seven infernal days, and that is what I hope America learns from his death..."

I think that is truly what I learned from creating and murdering Mark Thomas Adams as I did--that it is nobler to fight for an ideal and lose than not to fight at all. That was where I got the title for the first book, coincidentally, The Fallen Caryatid. She is the one who fights a losing battle simply because she must fight it. She knows she will be crushed, but for her own sake, she must fight it. She cannot shrug, for doing so would mean killing all that strives to be right in the world. And so she fights the Good War, even if she must do it alone, doomed to failure. It is the highest form of courage.

Maybe I misjudged the War on Terror in the past. I used to say it was silly to fight against Terrorism because you can never defeat an ideal, which is true but irrelevant, it now seems. I see flashing that we never really fight against anything--we fight for something. Always. Only the glass-half-empty-pessimists see it that way. But as an idealist, I should see it as fighting for something. Always. We are fighting for liberty; we are fighting to prove that Evil cannot defeat Good. It really is, as I called it in my in-depth study a few months ago, a "Good War on Terror". At this moment, at this hour, it doesn't seem that different from any other war. It feels the same. It feels just as real, tangible, and worth fighting as the Revolution, the Civil War, and World War II.

And I am fighting it, I know that. I am fighting it with these glorious words that no one but myself ever reads. I just wish America would undress herself to see the truth as I see it at this moment. The beautifully naked truth is, as John Stuart Mill wrote:

War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse.

I only wish America could know herself again--could know this truth so pure, so simple. So forgotten. Thus, let us never forget. On this surreal day after, let us swear to remember that liberty is always worth fighting for. Always.