Monday, November 29, 2004
Mi Casa, su Casa
In this week's New Yorker, George Saunders has a modest proposal in his piece, Flooding the Zone. It's in the spirit of "Acts of Random Kindness", "Christmas Cheer", and "Good Will to All Men". Based on the analysis of the voters in the last election there should not be any problem implementing this, since there are so many morally valued folks out there who believe we should act like Christians (well, maybe not like the Christians of the Crusades days). The only piece of good news that Mr. Saunders left out was the positive effect his plan would have on the domestic air carriers. Say "Bye" to Chapter 11! Say "Hello" to increasing stock prices.
Here's the piece, in it's entirety:
FLOODING THE ZONE
by GEORGE SAUNDERS
Issue of 2004-12-06
Posted 2004-11-29
I’ve completed the math.
There are approximately twenty-five million Iraqis in Iraq. There are approximately three hundred million Americans in America. This means that there are approximately twelve Americans for every Iraqi. This means that, if we all go, each American will be responsible for one-twelfth of an Iraqi. An Iraqi family of five will thus be attended by sixty Americans.
We will come, this second wave of three hundred million of us, unarmed. We will bring nothing but ourselves. We will simply show up, saying, “What would you like for dinner?” While we cook, our Iraqis can just relax. God knows they have had a terrible couple of years. We will encourage them to sit on their couches, if they still have couches, while we clean up after dinner. We will bring them coffee, tea, dessert, whatever they like. All these months, we have winced from over here, imagining their pain. Once we are there, we will do what we can to say, “We like you, and want the best for you. We’re sorry. This was not what we intended. No matter what it might have looked like to you, we have always wished you well.”
After dinner, our Iraqis will smile, whispering among themselves. “Not so bad, these unarmed ones,” they will say. “That coffee was super.”
Some of you might be wondering: What about the insurgents?
Well, even the most energetic insurgent will have a hard time getting much done, saddled, as he will be, with his twelve designated Americans. Imagine how hard it will be to sneak off with your insurgent friends, much less deploy a roadside bomb, when, every time you move, your twelve Americans leap up and ask if there’s anything you need. Say you are going out to assault a convoy. Good luck! You skulk into the night, and suddenly the three Fitzsimmonses and the four Jacksons and the five elderly Peterkin brothers are walking along with you, asking where you’re headed, wondering if that distinctive style of Iraqi hut has a particular name, asking if there’s anywhere to get a decent cup of decaf, telling an endless story about how hard it was to get a decent cup of decaf in Paris, for God’s sake.
Some might ask: What about provisions? Simple. Each American will bring a thirty-day supply of food from his or her local market. Hams, turkeys, huge roasts of beef, wheels of brie, large jars of Greek olives, bottles of champagne. We will also bring our TVs and our microwaves and our refrigerators, along with generators. We will sit around with our host families, eating ourselves into a pleasant stupor, watching TV, playing board games (we will also bring board games). If anybody gets sick, we will locate a good American doctor in one of the nearby host homes and lavish the sick Iraqi with the finest in American care.
Because, medicine? We brought it. The finest in medical technology? We brought it. Plumbing problem? Please. We are great with plumbing. No power? Don’t make me laugh. American electricians are the finest electricians in the world.
Will it be crowded? It will. A ten-person Iraqi home will overflow with a hundred and twenty Americans. Will it be hot? Iraq is a desert country, and our new homes will, yes, be quite hot and crowded. Plus, as the Iraqis eat our food and watch our TVs they will no doubt become fatter, thus making their homes even more crowded.
But the over-all result will be: No more violence. Nobody killing anybody. We may get cranky, we may get a little bored, an Iraqi may now and then accuse an American of cheating at Risk, but nobody will die. Everyone will be eating and watching TV and struggling to move around and waiting in line for the bathroom, and in this atmosphere all killing will stop.
And once the killing stops we can all begin to discuss democracy.
What is democracy? Is it right for you people? If not, what would you prefer? Is there anything we can do to help? Is there anything we can build, fix, expand? If not, O.K. If so, let us at it. There is no charge—our government is paying. Those suckers have no idea where the money is going, so let’s sock it to them; I don’t care a bit, as long as you get what you need.
Now, a reasonable question is, what will be happening in the completely deserted United States of America at this point?
This is where Phase II of my plan begins.
Once the U.S. has been vacated, the Palestinians will be moved into the Western U.S. and the Israelis will be moved into the Eastern U.S. Between them will roll the mighty Mississippi. Even if they wanted to get to each other and do some killing, sorry, no. Armed U.N. guards will be posted at every bridge.
Besides, the Palestinians will be enjoying San Francisco and Los Angeles and the Grand Canyon, and the Israelis will be having wonderful weekends in Boston and Chicago, seeing Bar Harbor, tooling around Manhattan, whatever they like.
Meanwhile, the Canadians will move into Palestine and Israel, and do a National Makeover. All existing houses will be razed and replaced with beautiful mansions. The mansions will alternate: Jew, Palestinian, Jew, Palestinian. Every house will have a pool and a grill and a sauna, and a new flag hanging in front of it, the flag of a new nation, Plisraelistine.
Phase III involves shipping everyone in Kosovo to Canada while the Canadians are getting Plisraelistine ready. Since there are only around two million Kosovars, it is expected that any remaining tensions will dissipate as the two million Kosovars wander through this vast new land, rarely ever seeing one another, being frightened into a peaceful humility by the occasional wolf or bear.
Meanwhile, back in Iraq, we will be saying our goodbyes.
The country, sated and plump, gone soft after months of leisure, will finally be at peace. They will be so glad to be getting rid of us. Suddenly, their houses will feel sprawling and roomy. Suddenly, their country will seem like their country again.
From there, it’s fairly simple. The Plisraelistinians fly home to their beautiful new country. They are so amazed at their excellent houses that all thoughts of fighting disappear. The Canadians return home just as the Kosovars, refreshed from their stay in Canada, inspired by the boundless wheatlands and staggeringly beautiful mountain vistas, relieved at the relative absence of wolves and bears, return home, resolved anew to give peace a chance.
I think it could work. It is only a matter of will, of giving up certain comforts (our homes, any concept of privacy, our jobs, our businesses, etc.). The hardship is great, but so will be the reward: an Iraq where nobody is killing or dying, an Iraq caught up in an ecstasy of normalcy, boredom even—people bickering, committing adultery, gossiping, sleeping in the middle of the day, mouths hanging open, flies flying in.
And then we can all get to work on the Sudan.
In this week's New Yorker, George Saunders has a modest proposal in his piece, Flooding the Zone. It's in the spirit of "Acts of Random Kindness", "Christmas Cheer", and "Good Will to All Men". Based on the analysis of the voters in the last election there should not be any problem implementing this, since there are so many morally valued folks out there who believe we should act like Christians (well, maybe not like the Christians of the Crusades days). The only piece of good news that Mr. Saunders left out was the positive effect his plan would have on the domestic air carriers. Say "Bye" to Chapter 11! Say "Hello" to increasing stock prices.
Here's the piece, in it's entirety:
FLOODING THE ZONE
by GEORGE SAUNDERS
Issue of 2004-12-06
Posted 2004-11-29
I’ve completed the math.
There are approximately twenty-five million Iraqis in Iraq. There are approximately three hundred million Americans in America. This means that there are approximately twelve Americans for every Iraqi. This means that, if we all go, each American will be responsible for one-twelfth of an Iraqi. An Iraqi family of five will thus be attended by sixty Americans.
We will come, this second wave of three hundred million of us, unarmed. We will bring nothing but ourselves. We will simply show up, saying, “What would you like for dinner?” While we cook, our Iraqis can just relax. God knows they have had a terrible couple of years. We will encourage them to sit on their couches, if they still have couches, while we clean up after dinner. We will bring them coffee, tea, dessert, whatever they like. All these months, we have winced from over here, imagining their pain. Once we are there, we will do what we can to say, “We like you, and want the best for you. We’re sorry. This was not what we intended. No matter what it might have looked like to you, we have always wished you well.”
After dinner, our Iraqis will smile, whispering among themselves. “Not so bad, these unarmed ones,” they will say. “That coffee was super.”
Some of you might be wondering: What about the insurgents?
Well, even the most energetic insurgent will have a hard time getting much done, saddled, as he will be, with his twelve designated Americans. Imagine how hard it will be to sneak off with your insurgent friends, much less deploy a roadside bomb, when, every time you move, your twelve Americans leap up and ask if there’s anything you need. Say you are going out to assault a convoy. Good luck! You skulk into the night, and suddenly the three Fitzsimmonses and the four Jacksons and the five elderly Peterkin brothers are walking along with you, asking where you’re headed, wondering if that distinctive style of Iraqi hut has a particular name, asking if there’s anywhere to get a decent cup of decaf, telling an endless story about how hard it was to get a decent cup of decaf in Paris, for God’s sake.
Some might ask: What about provisions? Simple. Each American will bring a thirty-day supply of food from his or her local market. Hams, turkeys, huge roasts of beef, wheels of brie, large jars of Greek olives, bottles of champagne. We will also bring our TVs and our microwaves and our refrigerators, along with generators. We will sit around with our host families, eating ourselves into a pleasant stupor, watching TV, playing board games (we will also bring board games). If anybody gets sick, we will locate a good American doctor in one of the nearby host homes and lavish the sick Iraqi with the finest in American care.
Because, medicine? We brought it. The finest in medical technology? We brought it. Plumbing problem? Please. We are great with plumbing. No power? Don’t make me laugh. American electricians are the finest electricians in the world.
Will it be crowded? It will. A ten-person Iraqi home will overflow with a hundred and twenty Americans. Will it be hot? Iraq is a desert country, and our new homes will, yes, be quite hot and crowded. Plus, as the Iraqis eat our food and watch our TVs they will no doubt become fatter, thus making their homes even more crowded.
But the over-all result will be: No more violence. Nobody killing anybody. We may get cranky, we may get a little bored, an Iraqi may now and then accuse an American of cheating at Risk, but nobody will die. Everyone will be eating and watching TV and struggling to move around and waiting in line for the bathroom, and in this atmosphere all killing will stop.
And once the killing stops we can all begin to discuss democracy.
What is democracy? Is it right for you people? If not, what would you prefer? Is there anything we can do to help? Is there anything we can build, fix, expand? If not, O.K. If so, let us at it. There is no charge—our government is paying. Those suckers have no idea where the money is going, so let’s sock it to them; I don’t care a bit, as long as you get what you need.
Now, a reasonable question is, what will be happening in the completely deserted United States of America at this point?
This is where Phase II of my plan begins.
Once the U.S. has been vacated, the Palestinians will be moved into the Western U.S. and the Israelis will be moved into the Eastern U.S. Between them will roll the mighty Mississippi. Even if they wanted to get to each other and do some killing, sorry, no. Armed U.N. guards will be posted at every bridge.
Besides, the Palestinians will be enjoying San Francisco and Los Angeles and the Grand Canyon, and the Israelis will be having wonderful weekends in Boston and Chicago, seeing Bar Harbor, tooling around Manhattan, whatever they like.
Meanwhile, the Canadians will move into Palestine and Israel, and do a National Makeover. All existing houses will be razed and replaced with beautiful mansions. The mansions will alternate: Jew, Palestinian, Jew, Palestinian. Every house will have a pool and a grill and a sauna, and a new flag hanging in front of it, the flag of a new nation, Plisraelistine.
Phase III involves shipping everyone in Kosovo to Canada while the Canadians are getting Plisraelistine ready. Since there are only around two million Kosovars, it is expected that any remaining tensions will dissipate as the two million Kosovars wander through this vast new land, rarely ever seeing one another, being frightened into a peaceful humility by the occasional wolf or bear.
Meanwhile, back in Iraq, we will be saying our goodbyes.
The country, sated and plump, gone soft after months of leisure, will finally be at peace. They will be so glad to be getting rid of us. Suddenly, their houses will feel sprawling and roomy. Suddenly, their country will seem like their country again.
From there, it’s fairly simple. The Plisraelistinians fly home to their beautiful new country. They are so amazed at their excellent houses that all thoughts of fighting disappear. The Canadians return home just as the Kosovars, refreshed from their stay in Canada, inspired by the boundless wheatlands and staggeringly beautiful mountain vistas, relieved at the relative absence of wolves and bears, return home, resolved anew to give peace a chance.
I think it could work. It is only a matter of will, of giving up certain comforts (our homes, any concept of privacy, our jobs, our businesses, etc.). The hardship is great, but so will be the reward: an Iraq where nobody is killing or dying, an Iraq caught up in an ecstasy of normalcy, boredom even—people bickering, committing adultery, gossiping, sleeping in the middle of the day, mouths hanging open, flies flying in.
And then we can all get to work on the Sudan.
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