I have had a wonderful summer. It has been hectic at times, it has flown by in many ways, it has seemed short (no doubt because of the cooler temperatures). But it has been a wonderful time filled with lots of time with my kids, fun, travel, relaxation, seeing family and friends, and a general sense of accomplishment and even some relaxation. It has been an exciting summer on the professional front, not only in preparation for a new school year and the exciting things I hope to do with the University Honors Program at Butler, but also in signing a contract for a manuscript (Book 4), finishing two book chapters (that will appear as part of a collection in honor of Indiana's upcoming bicentennial), getting a release date for Book Number 3--which came about because of Book 1, and starting work on a new manuscript (Book 5)!
Because it has been all those things, this summer has also led me to think about some questions (which relate back to The Mainline aka Book 2) and which I hope to address at some point this Fall in a number of blog posts (as time and schedule allow). But as I sit here tonight, listening to crickets chirping away outside with the occasional firefly floating by in our backyard, I am also troubled by developments half a world away. I have written previously about the situation in the Ukraine and in Nigeria, and won't be returning to those situations tonight. Rather, I have been thinking about the ongoing situation in Iraq. What follows is not political (though I have both personal political as well as professionally historic opinions on the topic to be sure) about what the United States should (or should not) be doing and why (though, again, I have policy convictions on the matter), rather it is an attempt to express and remind readers of a current humanitarian, historic, and (yes) religious crisis that is engulfing that country.
A bit of background: We should remember that Iraq is (as I often tell students), a "made up country." That is, until the twentieth century, there was no Iraq and no Iraqis. It was part of several different empires (Assyria, Babylon, Persia, Greco-Macedonian), on the fringes of some others (Roman, Byzantine), and a part of the Ottoman and British empires more recently. As such, it is (to borrow the wonderful phrase of Benedict Anderson, "an imagined community" in many ways--filled with people of various religious, cultural, and ethnic identities, united by circumstance and various "fictions" as a nation. It was not until the First World War (if you've not read this, do so) and its aftermath that Iraq came into existence. Not because of history, but because of the political need of the victorious Allied powers. It was a battle ground (if only briefly) during the Second World War, and really only became an important part of American foreign policy in the late twentieth century. Indeed, in the span of little more than a decade, the United States has fought two wars in Iraq, and as I write this (one might argue) is now fighting its third.
A year ago almost, I wrote about the situation in Syria, and whether or not U.S. intervention was compelled by Just War Doctrine or not. My point tonight is not to ask if U.S. action in Iraq meets those criteria or not (though I think it does much better than the debate that faced us a year ago), but rather to highlight and remind those of you who find your way here of what the group formally known as ISIS is doing to Iraqis they disagree with (both religiously, culturally, and one might assume as well, politically).
While I have been enjoying my summer, ISIS has gone on the march. Destroying historic sites that withstood previous wars and conquests unharmed. They have targeted religious shrines (both Christian as well as Islamic ones). They have sought to slaughter those who do not see the world as they do. In their rhetoric, they might talk of re-establishing a caliphate, but what they have embarked in is little more than a genocide against those who disagree with them in both matters of faith and of politics, as well as the systematic destruction of ancient shrines and temples -- effectively seeking to not just destroy the opposition, but wipe clean the memory that such people (and their beliefs) ever existed.
As an American, I was glad to see the United States finally take some action against ISIS. As a Christian, I pray for those who are in the path of ISIS--especially my brothers and sisters in the faith. As a religious person, I was pleased that people of faith have condemned what ISIS is doing (both within the Christian tradition as well as within the Islamic tradition). But someone who loves the past, who has dedicated their professional life to preserving and passing on history, I weep at what ISIS has done.
Change, as I often tell my classes, is not the same as progress. And I am outraged at the "changes" ISIS has unleashed upon Iraq (and portions of Syria). The obliteration of the past, the murdering of innocents, is not progress for Iraq or the world. Instead, it is a reminder that whatever progress we have made since the great wars of the twentieth century, it is progress held together only by the common thread of civilization and our common humanity. Defending those things, should know no labels, whether partisan or religious. And that is something I was reminded of as this summer comes to an end.
