Artwork by Michael DiMilo
By Geoff Carter
As the world watched horrified—once again—one sovereign nation invaded another without provocation, slaughtering thousands, and perhaps tens of thousands of innocent civilians, as we stood by helplessly, unable to stop the bloodshed without getting enmeshed in the carnage ourselves. No one—except maybe Russia—wants World War III.
Civilized nations have been attempting to coerce the Russians into stopping the invasion by economic sanctions and other isolationist strategies, but nothing seems to be working. Vladimir Putin is willing to let his people suffer for his megalomaniacal ambitions, whatever they might be. Short of declaring war, NATO and the US are helpless.
History is repeating before our very eyes. In 1979, when Russia invaded Afghanistan in an unprovoked attack, America was unwilling to become militarily involved. The UN General Assembly passed a resolution condemning the Soviet action. President Carter boycotted the Summer Olympic Games in Moscow, and numerous nations supported Afghan insurgents with supplies and material—the same as they are doing today with Ukraine.
In 2003, as part of President Bush’s War on Terror, and in a controversial effort to stem Iraq’s supposed cache of weapons of mass destruction (a threat that proved false), the United States invaded and occupied Iraq, an endeavor that lasted over eight years, costing 35,000 American and over 100,000 Iraqi casualties.
Since the leaders of the civilized nations of the world seem unable to police their own violent tendencies and are more than willing to sacrifice their people to further their own perverted ambitions, perhaps it is time for a drastic shift in geopolitical strategies. As the global superpowers have shown that they cannot act responsibly and are unwilling to restrain themselves from acts of war when their national interests are threatened, perhaps a new model for conflict resolution is needed.
In the remote Peruvian mountain province of Chumbilvilcas, near the Cusco region, the Christmastime festival of Takanakuy takes place. Besides the eating, drinking, dancing, and other typical activities one finds at a normal holiday celebration, this gala culminates with a series of one-on-one fistfights meant to settle long-standing scores between participants. Combatants battle over perceived slights, disagreements, and social tensions that have accumulated over the past year, and entire communities gather to watch their members duke it out. There are strictly enforced rules and referees to enforce them. There is no biting or kicking someone when they’re down, and fights are relatively short, and always end with a handshake.
There is a lot to be learned here. Instead of villages going to war with each other over stolen sheep, perceived slights, or dishonorable behaviors, the aggrieved and the aggressors go at it—in public. No weapons, no armies, no missiles, no sorrow—maybe just a bloody nose or a bruised ego. Afterwards, everyone shakes hands and has a drink. There are no civilian deaths, no friendly fire, no collateral damage, and no inflated military budgets. And no flag-draped coffins coming home.
Perhaps, in a sort of reversal of the lauded Peace Corps program, emissaries from Chumbilvilcas could establish programs in Moscow and Washington, D.C. to teach our politicians how to resolve conflict with minimal bloodshed. Other peace-loving peoples like Costa Ricans, who have no standing army, or Icelanders and New Zealanders, whose countries rank as the two most peaceful in the world, could also establish new Peace Corps programs promoting smarter solutions to international problems.
Right. While it might be amusing to spin out the possibilities of a fight between world leaders—I’m imagining a cage match between Donald Trump and Angela Merkel (with my money on Merkel), the possibiliy of tsars and presidents going at in a bare-handed fist fight is remote at best. Or is it? Reality has just become as strange, or stranger, than imagination.
Last week, billionaire entrepreneur and independent space ranger Elon Musk issued a Twitter challenge to Vladimir Putin. “I hereby challenge Vladimir Putin to single combat. Stakes are Ukraine,” (Translation provided by Google.) While the Kremlin didn’t respond directly to the challenge, Dimitry Rozgin, head of Russia’s space program, and who in the past had belittled Musk’s achievements in the space industry, responded, calling Musk “a little devil, too weak to compete with me” (Yahoo News: Musk’s ‘Combat Challenge’to Putin Draws Mockery in Russia).
While this eccentric billionaire and overcompensating rocket man exchange insults about whose rocket payloads are longer, the people of Chumbilvilcas are probably shaking their heads. Musk and Rozgin just don’t get it. The mano a mano competition isn’t about belittling or humiliating the other guy. It’s about earning and consolidating respect. If Putin feels that Russia is being maligned and oppressed by NATO and the West, the simple issuance of a challenge would be a declaration of his dissatisfaction. The fight itself would be an affirmation of his determination to gain that respect.
The truth is thousands of Ukrainians and Russians are dying every day for no reason and all the efforts of the civilized world cannot—short of joining the fight ourselves—stop it. Even though Elon Musk has broached the possibility of a bout of “champion warfare”, it has been treated as ludicrous at best and contemptible at worst. Apparently, we would rather let Putin exercise his egotistical ambitions on helpless women and children than to hold him accountable.
Shielded by thousands of soldiers and hundreds of war machines, Putin believes he can work his will on whomever he pleases—which is exactly what he is doing. If our collective first world cultures can find no solution to violence other than violence, perhaps it might be time to simpler and infinitely more sensible answers. I’m ready to set up Peace Corps offices in Moscow, Washington, and all the NATO capitals.
Perhaps it’s time to celebrate Takanakuy early.
Sources
Amen, Brother Geoff.
Thanks, Neal.