RUN!

 

Trust Not RUN! Disgust By Stephen L. Wilmeth                 A memory from when my paternal grandparents lived on the Mangus strikes a chord.             In those days, horned Hereford cattle dominated southwestern New Mexico. If there was a metric regarding docility, it certainly hadn’t filtered through the annals of university extension to the ranch gates. Seemingly, those Hereford bulls would fight just to stay in practice. There were times they’d fight all day, rest awhile, and then fight off and on all night.             You could hear them down in the creek bottom as the sounds wafted through the open windows of that little board and batten house on warm summer nights (along with the clock ticking in the living room).             Being around them, taught the lessons of avoiding a situation that could lead to calamity. Even a kid learned which of them to be most concerned about, and that was strengthened by Grandpa or another adult reminding you not to get close enough when they were fighting to find yourself in the path of the beaten combatant. They were then most dangerous because, when they decided to quit, they would turn and leave in a wide-eyed stampede.             You just might get trampled or worse.             The incident of the memory involved one of the worst of those offenders.             The reason for being down along the creek at the crossing going to the house with my uncle afoot has dimmed, but he and I found ourselves right there with him. Rather than being wary of him my uncle hooeyed him, got up behind him close enough to grab his tail, bent it up, and walked him across the creek all the while telling him how sorry he and his relatives were.             The bull acted like a chastened hound dog!             I was duly impressed. I’d never seen anything like that especially with that bull. Looking back at me the first words out of my uncle’s mouth were something like Is this cowboy way getting to be in your blood?             Nothing was said, but … the answer remains unchanged.             Trust Not             The Great White Father has a mixed track record.             There were some 368 treaties signed by the federal government and the various Indian tribes between the years of 1778 and 1871. Some will argue, but there is reason to believe that, if not all, the great majority were breached (some will say every one was breached). A bad taste remains to this day over the federal propensity to evade and run.             It wasn’t just an Indian issue, though. Akin to the modern-day, unchecked border invasion, post war Texians found themselves without federal protection following the Mexican American War. They were left to their own devices with the threat of prosecution if another international conflict was initiated.             It wasn’t just a 19th Century phenomenon, either.             The Polish warriors who fought so valiantly on the side of the Allies in World War II were essentially set adrift when the war ended. The rest of the story was that Russian repression ravaged them and their country from 1945 until 1989. The American president(s) that could have altered that outcome chose to turn a blind eye on a very noble ally.             A similar circumstance continued after the retreat from Viet Nam. Thousands of Hmongs who had fought so valiantly on the side of America, taking as much as five times the number of casualties, were left for slaughter when the Communist Pathet Lao went to work on them when the last of the Americans disappeared over the eastern horizon.             The Great White Father(s) continued to demonstrate a startling, shortened memory. Time and again loyalty was revealed simply as a political whim.             So, it is no great surprise when this fellow who lives variously between the White House, Camp David, and two or three houses other houses switched the lights off the American capitalization of militarized Afghanistan. Having him emerge from a cloistered, rebooting retreat only to read from his note cards which reporter to call upon demonstrated once again he certainly doesn’t carry the gene of American exceptionalism.             When it comes to keeping the national word in cross border endeavors, history has proven that American leadership needs to be watched closely. Too often, the outcome resembles that of a beaten bull running blindly from the conflict.             Disgust             The Taliban is stronger today than the first day of the undeclared war against them 20 years ago.             All those lost and or ravaged lives were wasted. All that national treasury was burned. There is not a single thing that is better this day than all those years ago. Billions of dollars of current hardware and war materiel have been handed over to an enemy that is smiling broadly at this nation’s jaded bravado.             Our closest allies are furious at the tomfoolery of calling the ball and turning tail.             The outrage felt by those loyal to the American effort in Afghanistan must be immense. Those people will be hunted down and slaughtered just like their counterparts in past conflicts when words, contracts, and treaties were systematically breached.             This time the disastrous political ineptness and the tailored suit arrogance of the terminally flawed occupant of the oval office cannot be accepted. The looming problem, though, is the next two batters in the current lineup are even worse. The instinct of the Vice President and the Speaker of the House for guiding the true American model is nonexistent.             So, we find ourselves in a precarious spot. A complicated allegiance of sorts, though, is growing. Our international allies are disgusted with the unilateral stunt pulled by this president. Theirs is the same opinion as the majority of Americans across the American plain. The folks put at risk of death within Afghanistan must have a whole different set of outrage. This entire group is joined by the collection of antagonistic countries in a strange universal disgust with Washington.             The irony and the danger is immense.               Stephen L. Wilmeth is a rancher from southern New Mexico. “!!”. They were then most dangerous because, when they decided to quit, they would turn and leave in a wide-eyed stampede. Anything is possible in politics, so what if both parties cut and run and leave us with all the torn down fences and other damage to repair? Actually, that may be better than these pseudo-fights where they just slap at one another, resolve nothing and go back to "collaborating". Too bad that fence they are always straddling isn't barbed wire.   ~~ Frank DuBois