All They Understand is Force
May 27, 2009
Joe was, well… just that. A regular joe. When asked, he would say that he loves his country and that he joined the army just because of that. He was a model soldier: neat, punctual, knowing when to speak and when not to. Not that speaking was an activity he indulged in much. He was just a grunt, one out of tens of thousands sent to Iraq during the latest crisis. Joe was on guard duty that day, he wasn’t really paying attention. He’s been doing this about 60 hours a week for a year now, and his mind seemed to be wandering off.
About three hours into his shift, some officers came by. He saluted them. They walked up to him, clad in formal wear, buttoned to the teeth. He felt ashamed that he couldn’t look as good as that. As good as his commanding officers, those brave men whom he would follow into battle in a heartbeat. He knew America was in danger. He knew that even though his duty was boring and monotonous – he was protecting his country and helping to build a better, democratic Iraq. One of the officers approached Joe. “How are you today?” he asked. Joe didn’t hesitate – “Very well, sir! What can I do for you , sir?” he answered while raising his chin, stiffening his back and doing all those things he’s done a hundred times before. “We have a slight problem, soldier”, said the officer. “We’ve been warned that a red car, carrying three passengers, all male, are going to try and infiltrate our base. We want you to see to that none such car comes through here”. Joe thought about it. Actually – he didn’t. “Whatever it takes, sir” he answered, “fucking towelheads, all they understand is force”. “Good man”, said the officer and walked back to his car.
About 30 minutes after the officer left, Joe noticed a suspicious vehicle. It was red, as they said, and it had three young Arab males in it. He approached the car with caution. His gun pointing forward. The car stopped. A few more soldiers from the back of the roadblock started to look alert. Joe was 30 feet away from the car when the window opened. “#$%#$^%^#%^!” said a man in an oriental accent, or at least that’s what Joe heard. “I can’t understand you!” Joe answered, again without thinking. “@#$#5*@#$$$?” said the car-voice. “I CAN’T UNDERSTAND YOU!!” yelled Joe, and suddenly he could.
It was as if Joe suddenly found himself in a foreign place. He heard someone yelling “@$%@$%@!” from a few feet away. He was sitting in a car. He was looking though the front window. He saw a very strange sight.
About thirty feet away from the car, holding an M-16 rifle, was a man who looked, to Joe, extremely familiar. It was him. But it couldn’t be. The body he was in looked to his right, his friend was speaking. “Well, what are you waiting for?”, asked the man seated next to Joe-in-the-Arab’s-body. “HAMID! DRIVE!”, the man yelled. Hamid drove. Both Hamid and Joe, inside Hamid, knew exactly what situation the were in. Joe felt like he could know everything about Hamid, and he did. He saw Hamid as a young boy. How his father used to play with him in the back yard. He remembered school ceremonies, singing the national anthem, saluting to the flag. That beautiful red, white and black. He remembered how proud his father was when he joined the Revolutionary Guard. “You’ll make us proud!” Hamid’s father said. He remembered how he had that nice uniform, and how all the girls would look at him when he walked through the streets of Basra, his hometown. How he loved his uniform and his rifle. It made him feel safe. He knew that if anything ever happens to his beloved Iraq, that he would help defend it against it’s enemies.
“Hamid! What are you dreaming about?! Take out your gun and lets go! We have to protect our country, we have to keep out those damn Americans. They’ll hurt our families, they’ll hurt our nation!”.
Hamid /Joe pulled out the MAC-10 submachine-gun hidden under his seat. He knew exactly what to do. He was protecting his country, he was doing his duty. “Those fucking Americans” he thought as he started firing, “all they understand is force”.
Hi, I followed your link in your post on HC.
I don’t often attempt critiques. I’m bad at them, and I always come across wrong, but I’ll give it my best shot since most people are just too damn impatient to read anything longer than a sentence, so my hat’s off to you just for writing it.
Please understand that I’m not trying to insult you or anything. I’m glad people are out there who write short stories now-a-days. That’s a rare thing. Hopefully you can use my criticism.
Stories, to me, come from a character who wants something. A man has an objective, for instance, and the opposition throws conflict in his face, and therein lies the story: the man overcomes the conflict, gains or loses something in the process, and we (the reader) feel good that we can finally leave the story after the conclusion has been served.
You have a positive idea which you are trying to propound through the eyes of two separate characters: a situational irony concerning force. You have two characters both thinking the same thing, and while it is clear that you have intended it to be a destructive thing, you have conveyed your message in such a way that neither character learns anything from it. Indeed they can never be aware that the other person is thinking parallel thoughts.
A thinks he understands B.
B think they understand A.
Isn’t it sad that they both have understood each other perfectly and will kill each other for it?
Well, yes, it is, but in arbitrarily switching POV for the reader but not allowing the characters themselves to see their own folly, all that can be seen are two ignorant parties unswayed by the fundamental injustice of the conflict. They then proceed to a logical conclusion of death (it is assumed that everyone dies at the end), and that’s that. It’s fine, but it seems to me that the things which happen to the characters only happen to facilitate the ending. There is no compelling reason why the lead should suddenly and literally become the other person if he doesn’t change his mind because of it.
If he realizes he’s made a bodily switch, why wouldn’t he realize the error of his ignorant supposition? To continue with his original intent to kill despite the revelation of its foolishness just doesn’t make sense to me.
You may have intended for the story to be a brief snapshot of an unfortunate and obviously senseless conflict, but nobody is the wiser in the end for it, especially the reader. At least, that is how I came away from it.
One way to go about it would be to have the story told by the lead character after the fact, perhaps in dialogue with someone else. As he relates the incident, he tells about how he feels on duty and about his objective. He makes clear in dialogue to the other character that he believes “All they understand is force.” One thing he may also tell is how he heard them shouting something foreign, something with a tone that strikes his memory even above the din, so he remembers every syllable. He might then tell the other character what he heard, and ask what it means. Of course, the other character will translate the foreign phrase as “All you understand is force!” (which would fulfill that character’s only purpose beyond being a surrogate for the reader) – thus inflicting understanding on the lead character, who can now see everything that happened in circumspect. And who now finally has a chance to learn something from it (or reflect on the tragedy of it). This gives characterization, “rising action”, and a solid conclusion.
I’ll stop there, because I don’t know how to take it further. Maybe you can use what I’ve said, or maybe it goes contrary to your intentions. At any rate, good luck with your story, it wouldn’t hurt if it was a bit longer!
-Doug
I should have said this, the story is based on “If I Were a Man” by Charlotte Gilman combined with the article “All They Understand Is Force: Debating Culture in Operation Iraqi Freedom” by Keith Brown (American Anthropologist, Dec 2008).
That should put it into context.
Joe understands, by what I’m thinking. Joe really understands what Hamid is thinking. He indentifies with him. Both of them are just pawns, both have no other choice. The ending is open for a reason, It’s about the decision, not about death. It really doesn’t matter which side you’re on, you’ll still do those same things and think you understand yourself and the other side.
Some of the point is – you can’t just switch minds, that’s the wrong idea.
d.
shallow, boring and filled with self importance… keep trying
I get shallow and boring, where do you get self importance?
d.