Today’s Remembrance Day is particularly poignant, the first one on a century anniversary from the beginning of the war. And I think that no one who fought it is with us any longer. My paternal grandfather was a veteran. He had emigrated from Eastern Europe as a young man, and then returned to fight in France.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
But here’s what I find interesting. If you read through Scheiber’s piece, there’s a word that doesn’t appear in it: Iran. That is, her place of birth (she reportedly grew up speaking Persian as a child). Does no one really think this influence is one of the reasons he seems so eager to do business with the mullahs?
The borders were always arbitrary, imposed from outside, which is the only way that it could have been done. This is truly the end of colonialism. Sadly, what will follow will almost certainly be worse.
