Kingdom Come, revisited

Finland’s Independence Day, 2014.

I’ve celebrated thus far by letting myself sleep in this morning, then bicycling through the rain and sleet to the cemetery where the cremated remains of my dear ex-father-in-law are interred. As he was one of the war veterans who did more than his fair share to keep this country independent, and has he remained a friend to me regardless of the mess of my divorce from his daughter, it is important to me on a year to year basis to remember him with a candle on this day.

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On the cycle trip each way I noticed that the majority of businesses open here today are actually immigrant owned restaurants. That doesn’t bother me. In many ways it makes sense. I actually went and had a kebab at one Turkish-owned place on my return trip just to support my fellow outsiders within Finnish society with that trivial gesture. But I hope that ultra-nationalist Finns will not start using that as a further justification for their racism against outsiders from Muslim countries in particular.

After the kebab I decided to stop over to my work place, assuming it would be empty today, to use the computer to do a bit of reading and writing. When I arrived, however, I discovered that two of my colleagues –– also foreign men who first came to Finland for matrimonial reasons –– were having the same idea. There are plenty of machines though, and it’s good not to be alone.

But en route I got to thinking about my conflicted perspectives on militancy. I have absolutely no moral reservations about my older son’s work as a drill sergeant in Finland’s army, and I appreciate how those of his maternal grandfather’s generation put up a brave fight to convince the Soviets that Finland would not be worth re-colonizing. On the other hand though, over Thanksgiving I gave Arlo’s Alice’s Restaurant another listen, and between that and my friend Brian’s recent posts, and some academic research I’ve been doing into the meta-ethical structures of Bertrand Russell’s pacifism over the past week, I’m more than a little convinced that there is no moral justification for the vast majority of the killing that the US military in particular has been doing over the past couple of decades.

So how can war be justified? Or can it?

My growing conviction on the matter is that the only valid justification for war is to defend the basic human rights of the basic population of the land in question, and then only if it can be done without prejudice in favor of those who are “our friends” or who are able to promise good business in the future to those who are selling the tools of destruction being used. A very high threshold indeed is needed in these matters, and ideally those who stand to gain heavily from the fighting itself should not be given a say in the matter.

The way in which both fossil fuel and military industrialists continue to get everything they want politically, both in terms of economic and foreign policy decisions, is morally reprehensible. Neither party in the US political system seems prepared to do anything to limit this abuse (though the Republicans seem just a little more gung-ho in supporting it). This in turn leads to other abusive psychopaths like Vladimir Putin, Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi and Kim Jong-un sounding almost justified in claiming that their militant actions are necessary to challenge presumptuously high-minded and over-extended force of the American military machine.

I am thoroughly convinced that if the United States sincerely wants to play a positive role in promoting human rights abroad (which, according to the diplomats I met last month at the US Embassy in Helsinki, is the ongoing political priority of American foreign policy, regardless of which party is in power), the only way for them to effectively do so is through promoting education in social sciences. This is rather difficult for the US to do, however, because it lags significantly behind the rest of the developed world in this particular area. Were this not the case, I stress yet again, conservative organizations so dogmatically proud of their own ignorance would not have the sort of foothold that they do in American political culture. This in turn makes it all the easier for companies that make gasoline and implements of death and destruction to de facto run the country. I could not be more ashamed of my native land in this regard at this point.

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But climbing off of this political hobby horse of mine for the moment, this subject brought to mind a song I wrote over 20 years ago with my dear friend Juuso Happonen, called Kingdom Come. It was inspired at the time, in the early 90s, by an original melody Juuso had given me a recording of on an old C-cassette tape, and how that in turn reminded me of my experiences visiting Northern Ireland during the time of the “troubles” in the early 80s. I wrote lyrics for two verses and a chorus on some old scrap paper at the time, and the tune soon found its way into Juuso’s troubadour set list. Since then, however, it has gathered a fair amount of dust.

For some reason, however, this song came to mind as I was on my bicycle this afternoon, headed to leave a candle at the grave of a soldier I had come to love and respect years after his war. And as I pedaled a potential third verse for the song came to mind.

So here’s for Juuso, and Brian, and all my other friends out there who believe in working for peace on earth in their own little ways:

Kingdom Come (revised edition)

When all our troubles are over,
will there be any point in what we have done?
Will our castles still be lived in?
Will our flags be flown by the sons of our sons?
When we’ve buried all of the soldiers,
can we truly say that the battle is won?
Can we glory in the destruction?
Can we till the land where the fighting was done?

And then still we wonder,
then still we wonder,
why the kingdom won’t come.

There’s a family down on the corner;
they should know better than to live around here.
They don’t speak the respectable language.
They don’t seem to care about what we hold dear.
So the town boys taught them a lesson,
and they made it clear that they were not welcome.
Now I’m left with only one question:
Was it them who turned this into a slum?

And then still we wonder,
then still we wonder,
why the kingdom won’t come.

We’ve all got our own little treasures;
some we’ve earned, some acquired at the point of a gun.
And we hope for even more pleasures,
though with vague ideas about how that is done.
For the thing we’ve become the best at
is to hold our own ground when push comes to shove;
with the consequential effect that
we’ve got no idea about brotherly love.

And then still we wonder,
then still we wonder,
why the kingdom won’t come.

Oh why won’t the kingdom come?

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2 Comments

Filed under Death, Education, Ethics, Holidays, Politics

2 responses to “Kingdom Come, revisited

  1. Wau, You found something old! and New! 😀 This melody is somewhere with the chords!

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