Admitting Uncertainty

When faced with big questions, with religion or politics or world relations, so many take the easy way out. So many pick a side blindly and cling to it without reason. So many feign atheism, moderation, or even apathy.

I often wish to take one of these paths and disappear along it, but there is no fooling the mind. I am always confused... so easily persuaded by a well-written article or a moving real-life example. Sometimes I tell myself, 'well, the issue must be taken on a case-by-case basis', and dismiss it for a while. Other times I almost accept that there is no easy answer, and sketch out into my mind the two well balanced sides. To put them in eloquent words holds them off for the time being, but the troubling thoughts return.

As if my opinion matters. As if I can conform the world to my will. As if I need to take a stance on every issue. I've always felt that I must know, must understand, must be able to tell right from wrong, but sometimes it is so difficult.

What shall we do about immigration?

My first instinct says that of course, be kind, be generous, let them in. They want to make a life for themselves, the majority of them - they're people too, mostly good ones. It's hardly their fault they weren't born into a better society! The fact that I know several Mexicans, legal and illegal and still in Mexico, only serves to strengthen my opinion.

And then I read an especially well written article opposing the immigration. So many of them are terrible and strike all the wrong notes - "AMERICA FOR AMERICANS!", "THEYRE TAKING OUR JOBS!". But this one looked reasonable, and I read it. It was filled with examples of a similar crisis some years back in Europe, particularly in France. The immigrants were happy to have a new life and new opportunities, were in fact hard workers and model citizens. But their children, and their children's children, have now forgotten the hard life they came from and have become ungrateful, even resentful of perceived discrimination. The article closes saying that first generation Mexicans are already resentful, even going so far as to desecrate our own flag at sporting events.

Interesting indeed...

What shall we do about the War in Iraq?

My first opinion sides with most of the world. Get out. Now. Why are we there? What are we doing in that God Forsaken Place? It's a civil war - their civil war, and we have no place in it. Besides, we went for the oil. The majority doesn't want us there. The UN doesn't even want us there... that should say everything. I hear refugees tell me that yes, Saddam was bad, but that life under the Americans has been harder.

And then I think about it. Really think about it. Humour the other side, minus the oil-hunting and lies and secrecy. And I think about Hotel Rwanda. How I was outraged that no one did anything. How could it have come to that? How could no one have helped? The UN pulled out, America protected its own and left the minority to die. That was a civil war, too. A civil war in a faraway land...

There are no easy answers. I feel the questions lie within me and twist through my stomach, and at times I feel almost nauseous. I wonder if the world was ever more clear cut, or if it's always been filled with shades of grey, and I think... If one person can be so divided, how can we blame the world for war?