THE WAY WE LIVE NOW

I Am Iraq
By MICHAEL IGNATIEFF

Back in the 60's, when I marched against the war in Vietnam, I learned that it is a mistake to judge a cause by the company it makes you keep. I slogged through the streets with Trotskyites who thought America was an evil empire, and I chanted slogans under banners that called for socialist revolution in Brooklyn. I stood arm in arm with pacifists, who made me wonder whether they would have fought Hitler. Since I was anti-Communist, I actually had more in common with the liberal hawks who thought they were defending South Vietnam against advancing Communist tyranny. But I believed nothing could save the weak and corrupt South Vietnamese government. This time, over Iraq, I don't like the company I am keeping, but I think they're right on the issue. I much prefer the company on the other side, but I believe they're mistaken.

I don't like the president's domestic policies. He should be helping state and local governments maintain jobs and services, especially for the poor. His attack on affirmative action turns back decades of racial progress. The tax breaks for the rich are unjust. His deficits are mortgaging the future. It's wrong to lock up so-called unlawful combatants on Guantanamo and in military brigs, denying them due process. The president's attorney general is dangerously cavalier about the civil liberties he is supposed to protect. The bullying tone the president adopted in his diplomacy at the United Nations diminished his chances of U.N. support. But I still think the president is right when he says that Iraq and the world will be better off with Saddam disarmed, even, if necessary, through force.

A lot of my friends think that supporting the president on this issue is naive. The company you keep, they argue, matters in politics. If you can't trust him on other issues, you have no reason to trust him on this one. If he treats freedom at home so lightly, what makes you believe that he will say what he means about staying the course to create freedom in Iraq?

My friends also imply that the company I am keeping on this war is a definition of what kind of person I am. So where we all stand has become a litmus test of our moral identities. But this shouldn't be the case. Opposing the war doesn't make you an antiglobalist, an anti-Semite or an anti-American, any more than supporting the war makes you a Cheney conservative or an apologist for American imperialism.

In fact, the debate over war is not so much a clash of competing moral identities as a battle within each of us to balance competing moral arguments. Sometimes it is easier to see this in the positions of the other side than in your own.

Recently, 14,000 ''writers, academics and other intellectuals'' -- many of them my friends -- published a petition against the war, at the same time condemning the Iraqi regime for its human rights violations and supporting ''efforts by the Iraqi opposition to create a democratic, multiethnic and multireligious Iraq.'' But since they say that ''the decision to wage war at this time is morally unacceptable,'' I wonder what their support for the Iraqi opposition amounts to. One colleague refused to sign the petition because he said it was guilty of confusion. The problem is not that overthrowing Saddam by force is ''morally unjustified.'' Who seriously believes 25 million Iraqis would not be better off if Saddam were overthrown? The issue is whether it is prudent to do so, whether the risks are worth running.

Evaluating risks is not the same thing as making moral choices. It is impossible to be certain that improving the human rights of 25 million people is worth the cost because no one knows what the cost will be. Besides, even if the cost could be known, what the philosophers call ''consequential'' justifications -- that 25 million people will live better -- run smack against ''deontological'' objections, namely that good consequences cannot justify killing people. I think the consequential justifications can override the deontological ones, but only if the gains in human freedom are large and the human costs are low. But let's admit it, the risks are large: the war may be bloody, the peace may be chaotic and what might be good in the long run for Iraqis might not be so good for Americans. Success in Iraq might win America friends or it might increase the anger much of the Muslim world feels toward this country.

It would be great if moral certainty made risk assessment easier, but it doesn't actually do so. What may be desirable from a moral point of view may be so risky that we would be foolish to try. So what do we do? Isaiah Berlin used to say that we just have to ''plump'' for one option or the other in the absence of moral certainty or perfect knowledge of the future. We should also try to decide for ourselves, regardless of the company we keep, and that may include our friends, our family and our loved ones.

During Vietnam, I marched with people who thought America was the incarnation of imperial wickedness, and I marched against people who thought America was the last best hope of mankind. Just as in Vietnam, the debate over Iraq has become a referendum on American power, and what you think about Saddam seems to matter much less than what you think about America. Such positions, now as then, seem hopelessly ideological and, at the same time, narcissistic. The fact is that America is neither the redeemer nation nor the evil empire. Ideology cannot help us here.

In the weeks and years ahead, the choices are not going to be about who we are or whose company we keep, or even about what we think America is or should be. The choices are about what risks are worth running when our safety depends on the answer. The real choices are going to be tougher than most of us could have ever imagined."

-----Michael Ignatieff, Harvard Professor, Human Rights Activist and NY Times Writer

MEL GIBSON'S GREAT PASSION:
Christ's Agony as You've Never Seen It

ROME, MARCH 6, 2003 (Zenit.org).- Oscar winning actor-director Mel Gibson
is in Rome these days, working on a film on the passion of Christ at the
Cinecittà studios. The movie focuses on the last hours of Christ's life
and stars Jim Caviezel ("The Thin Red Line," "Angel Eyes," "The Count of Monte
Cristo") as Jesus. Gibson granted the following exclusive interview to ZENIT.

Q: What made you decide to do this project?

Gibson: It's been slowly coming on for about 10 or 12 years now. I'm a
pretty old guy, but if you go back 12 years I was 35. That's when I
started to investigate the roots of my faith. I had always believed in God, that
he existed, and I was brought up to believe in a certain way. But in my middle years, I kind of drifted, and other things took center
stage. At that point, I realized I needed something more if I was going
to survive. A closer investigation of the Gospels, of the story, of the whole
piece, was demanded of me. That's when the idea started to percolate inside my head. I began to see
it realistically, re-creating it in my own mind so that it would make sense
for me, so I could relate to it. That's what I want to put on the screen.

Q: So many movies about the life of Christ have already been made. Why make
another one?

Gibson: I don't think other films have tapped into the real force of this
story. I mean have you seen any of the others? They are either inaccurate
in their history, or they suffer from bad music or bad hair. This film
will show the passion of Jesus Christ just the way it happened. It's like
traveling back in time and watching the events unfold exactly as they
occurred.

Q: How can you be sure that your version is so accurate?

Gibson: We've done the research. I'm telling the story as the Bible tells
it. I think the story, as it really happened, speaks for itself. The
Gospel is a complete script, and that's what we're filming.

Q: This seems like a switch from the usual Mel Gibson productions. Your
specialty is action, adventure and romance. What made you decide to do a
religious film?

Gibson: I'm doing what I've always done: telling stories I think are
important in the language I speak best: film. I think most great stories
are hero stories. People want to reach out and grab at something higher,
and vicariously live through heroism, and lift their spirit that way.
There is no greater hero story than this one -- about the greatest love one
can have, which is to lay down one's life for someone. The Passion is the
biggest adventure story of all time. I think it's the biggest love-story
of all time; God becoming man and men killing God -- if that's not action,
nothing is.

Q: Who will want to see a film like this?

Gibson: I think everyone will. The story has inspired art, culture,
behavior, governments, kingdoms, countries -- it has influenced the world
in more ways than you can imagine. It's a pivotal event in history that has
made us what we are today. Believers and nonbelievers alike, we have all
been affected by it. So many people are searching for meaning in life,
asking themselves a lot of questions. They'll come looking for answers.
Some will find them, some won't.

Q: So this film isn't only for Christians?

Gibson: "Gandhi" was a blockbuster hit, but it wasn't just for Hindus.
This film is for everyone. For believers and nonbelievers, Jesus Christ is
undoubtedly one of the most important historical figures of all time.
Name one person who has had a greater impact on the course of history.

Q: But if this film is focused on bringing the Gospels to life, won't it be
offensive to non-Christians? For example, the role of the Jewish leaders
in Jesus' death. If you depict that, won't it be offensive?

Gibson: This isn't a story about Jews vs. Christians. Jesus himself was a
Jew, his mother was a Jew, and so were his Twelve Apostles. It's true
that, as the Bible says, "He came unto his own and his own received him not"; I
can't hide that. But that doesn't mean that the sins of the past were any
worse than the sins of the present. Christ paid the price for all our
sins. The struggle between good and evil, and the overwhelming power of love go
beyond race and culture. This film is about faith, hope, love and
forgiveness. These are things that the world could use more of,
particularly in these turbulent times. This film is meant to inspire, not
to offend.

Q: Even so, some people are going to think that you just want to "push your
beliefs on others." Is that true?

Gibson: I didn't invent this story. I do happen to believe it. It's
something that just gets inside of you and has to come out. I'm just
trying to tell it well, better than it's ever been told before. When you're
dealing with non-fiction, a director's responsibility is to make it as
accurate as possible. Open-minded people will appreciate it for what it
is.

Q: What about the violence? Won't people find some of the more graphic
scenes inappropriate?

Gibson: Some people might, but, hey, that's the way it was. There is no
gratuitous violence in this film. I don't think anyone under 12 should go
see it -- unless they're a very mature 12-year-old. It's pretty heavy.
I think we have gotten too used to seeing pretty crucifixes on the wall and
we forget what really happened. I mean, we know that Jesus was scourged,
that he carried his cross, that he had nails put through his hands and
feet, but we rarely think about what this means. Growing up I didn't realize what was involved in this. I didn't realize
how hard it was. The full horror of what Jesus suffered for our redemption
didn't really strike me. Understanding what he went through, even on a
human level, makes me feel not only compassion, but also a debt: I want to
repay him for the enormity of his sacrifice.

Q: What about the language barrier? You're filming in two dead languages --
Latin and Aramaic -- and you're not planning to use subtitles. Won't that
be a turnoff?

Gibson: Caravaggio's paintings don't have subtitles, but people get the
message. The Nutcracker Ballet doesn't have subtitles, but people get the
message. I think that the image will overcome the language barrier.
That's my hope. I'm just trying to be as real as possible. There is something
kind of startling about watching it in the original languages. The reality
comes out and hits you. Full-contact. I know we are only re-creating, but
we are doing the best we can to simulate an experience of really being
there. And I think it's almost counterproductive to say some of these things in a
modern language. It makes you want to stand up and shout out the next
line, like when you hear "To be or not to be" and you instinctively say to
yourself, "That is the question." But if you hear the words spoken as
they were spoken at the time, it can kind of stun you. I've seen that happen when we're working. It gets a
clarity to it through the acting, through the nuances of the characters,
the movement of the camera -- it's the movement, it's the timing, it's
everything. All of a sudden it's very, very clear to me. That's when I
cut and move on.

Q: When you finish this project, will it be a letdown to go back to less
sublime subject matter?

Gibson: No, it will be a relief to do something that's a little lighter.
There is a tremendous burden of responsibility in this one, not to sell
anything short. I just hope I can do justice to the story. You can't
please everybody, but then again, that's not my goal.

"Anger is the fluid that love bleeds when you cut it."

-----C.S. Lewis, "Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer"

"It is obvious that while the numerous initiatives which are now taken by the Iraqi side with a view to resolving some longstanding, open disarmament issues can be seen as active or even proactive, these initiatives three to four months into the new resolution cannot be said to constitute immediate cooperation. Nor do they necessarily cover all areas of relevance. They are, nevertheless, welcome. And UNMOVIC is responding to them in the hope of solving presently unresolved disarmament issues. "


-----Hans Blix, Cheif UN Weapons Inspector in Iraq, in a speech given to the UN security council this morning.

George MacDonald | 1824-1905
Between Charles Dickens's and Oscar Wilde's noted American tours came George MacDonald's. In the United States, the fantasy writer and philosopher MacDonald was received as the eminent Victorian he was in 1872, meeting with Mark Twain, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and Harriet Beecher Stowe. His British literary connections were no less impressive: he numbered among his friends and confidantes John Ruskin, Matthew Arnold, Alfred Lord Tennyson, and Lewis Carroll (MacDonald's children were among the first to read the Alice books in manuscript), and his influence can be traced in C. S. Lewis and W. H. Auden. Little read now, MacDonald's fantasies for children and adults were critically and popularly well received when they were published from 1855 until the end of the century. These fantasies include the adult work Phantastes (1855) and MacDonald's stories and poems for children, Dealings with Fairies (1867), At the Back of the North Wind (1871), The Princess and the Goblin (1872), and The Princess and Curdie (1883). Like Andrew Lang, who would compile collections of fairy tales in the 1890s, MacDonald rejected realism as a viable mode of storytelling. Although realism was the dominant form of writing in the 1870s and '80s (think of the novels of George Eliot and Anthony Trollope), MacDonald rejected it, as well as the increasing Victorian reliance on science and rational experiment. For MacDonald, realism and science constrained and damaged the imagination, placing limitations on the world of the spirit and the inner life. MacDonald frequently went against the grain of prevailing Victorian belief: His career as a Congregationalist minister ended after only three years, when his sermons were found to be objectionable and lacking in sound dogma. With his insistence on the world of fantasy as the means by which to improve one's understanding of "real life," MacDonald stood as a potent ancestor of imaginative writers of children's literature including Beatrix Potter, Kenneth Grahame, and A.A. Milne.