Why I wear black on Fridays

Here in Ottawa, in a city inhabited by a great number of federal public servants and which has National Defence Headquarters as one of the most predominant structures of its downtown core, traditional Friday casual days take on a special meaning. The “Red Fridays” campaign, which began in the USA and was quickly adopted here in Canada once we recorded our first casualties, has a strong and obviously visible following here in the nation’s capital. Many employees of companies who also have space in our building are cloaked in red every Friday, and they no doubt have the “Support our Troops” ribbons on the backs of their cars and SUVs as well. MacDonald Cartier International Airport has a huge “We Support our Troops” banner over the arrivals lounge. We’ve been infected with American-style jingoism, which has reached the point where if you don’t wear red, or have a ribbon on your car, you’re seen as being not only unsupportive of the troops, but unpatriotic as well. The government is overjoyed. This rampant militarism not only gave Rick Hillier much of the basis for his popularity during his stint as Chief of the Defence Staff (witness his reference, to great admiration and acclaim, of the Taliban as “detestable murderers and scumbags”), but also to the notion that we have to fight on, at all costs, because if we quit now, all the lives lost will have been lost in vain. Wearing red and displaying ribbons now demonstrates support for the war as much as support for our soldiers.

This is a zero-sum game. The security situation in Afghanistan has been steadily deteriorating over the past three years, and our casualties have continued to rise. There is no positive outcome to this conflict, at least from a Western perspective. How arrogant of us to believe we can be successful in a country where so many before us have failed, and failed miserably. Did we learn nothing from the British or the Russians? Do we feel we can do better because of our resolve or because of our better weapons? Is it even right of us to think our way of life is better and therefore everyone else wants to live like us? We will never beat the ideology of terrorism by fighting it with guns, bombs and rockets in Afghanistan. For every Talib we kill, there are a half-dozen more ready to take his place. For every civilian we kill, we turn an entire family against us. Hearts and minds, indeed.

Now, before you think I don’t support our soldiers, it may help to know I used to be one. I spent 21 years in uniform, with stints in Cyprus (under the “blue beret” of the UN peacekeeping forces), NATO forces in West Germany, and more recently as a civilian contractor in both Bosnia and Afghanistan, working to support Canadian and NATO forces. I support my comrades in arms with every fibre of my being, and that’s why it pains me so much to see so many of them lose their lives for no tangible gains to the country of Afghanistan or to international security. Why not help the situation in Darfur, or help maintain security on the West Bank, or help people in Cuba and Texas rebuild their lives after devastating natural disasters? Because there’s no constant, shock-inducing news like what comes from Afghanistan when we lose another soldier, and with every loss, our government gains credibility in the eyes of many of its allies, not least of which is our neighbour to the south. To add insult to injury, they can’t even lower the flag on the Peace Tower to half-mast to respect the dead. Is this too much of a reminder to the public, and therefore not a politically-sound idea?

But, I digress. 98 of the nation’s sons, daughters, husbands, and fiancées have been lost so far fighting the “war on terror” in Afghanistan, a war without end, a sinkhole of valuable, irreplaceable lives and hard-earned treasure. Regardless of what our politicians and senior military leaders tell us, 98 lives are 98 too many to pay for the amount of progress we’ve made in Afghanistan, and every further loss puts us deeper into the red and dishonours the memory and boundless sense of duty of those soldiers who have gone before.

It’s not necessary for me to show my support for our soldiers by wearing garish colours, waving flags or sticking magnetic ribbons on my car. Red is a joyous colour, and there is no joy in pointless Canadian deaths in a desert half a world away. I support our soldiers through my daily thoughts and reflections, and remember their needless sacrifice by wearing black on Fridays.

Father