Victory

boxing

I want to live in a world of win-wins. But it seems that there is no chance, no chance at all. Like we are stuck in a never-ending boxing match in which only the opponent changes periodically. Only our strength is called for, not our love – that is our weakness.

Who will be the victor on the fields of Eastern Ukraine, or in the freezing Syrian winter? Will the revolutionaries of Egypt overthrow the latest oppressors to take their place as the next on the throne? Will North Korea get grain to feed its starving people by threatening nuclear war on their families in the South? Will Charlie Hebdo rise from the grave to defeat Islam with satire? Who will win?

Resting for a moment in one corner of the ring, eyes aflame with determination. And back into the fray with a fresh Atlantic Resolve, Allied Spirit. Spitting accusations at the invaders: “the offensive is made in Moscow”. Threatening this personification of the enemy, whose only desire is to bring democracy, and freedom, and true/right values, morality, whatever, down. No weapon is too unwieldy, all options are on the table. Bring out the tanks, line them up on all borders, occupy airspace, flex those muscles!

Needless to say, our counterpart is spitting and flexing too. After all, it takes two to tango. But like little children the fingers are pointing – he started it, no he did! And yet, in a boxing match, both are in it for the fight and there is much money on the winner.

In the moment when the first actual punches fly, when we are set on winning and no turning back, no more negotiation – that is the moment we are lost, defeated. Try saying this and you will only hear the mantra – the alternative to war is doing nothing.

© Xanthe Hall, 2015

Taking part in Writing Prompt: http://creativewriting.ie/writing-prompts/

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