Obfuscation

Sixty years ago, the Hanna-Barbera studio brought us a cartoon series about the Jetson family (the futuristic counterpart to the prehistoric Flintstones) that amused us with peculiar gadgets, video calls, and intelligent home appliances. We fantasized about our future resembling theirs in the city of Orbit in the year 2062, with clean air and flying cars, unaware that the 21st century, despite holograms and robots, would be much closer to a primitive bludgeon brawl.

Top of FormKeeping pace with Coca-Cola and rock'n'roll, wars became a thing of the past for us, who grew up in a socialist and non-aligned country. They turned into exhausting topics in history classes and the evening news, where, from our adolescent perspective, Iran and Iraq argued over whose version of Allah was better. Faced with price hikes and shortages, we were sedated by war movies on TV, reminding us of the sacrifices made by the partisans in the name of our comfort. Therefore, it was deemed much healthier to be without oil and fuel than without a head. Conflicts in Korea, Algeria, Vietnam, Laos, Nigeria, Cambodia, Angola, the Suez Canal crisis, the newly formed Israel, and tropical Cuba didn't concern us as they were all distant from the Balkans, where life seemed promising. We worked, traveled, built cottages, enjoyed free education and dental services, navigated daily obstacles through personal connections, and slept safely in the shadow of the Cold War under the warm blanket of brotherhood and unity. We indulged in splattered food, drank, and sang "Count on Us" as the mortar crumbled from the bricks of the Berlin Wall and our one-party system.

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Clumsily, we toyed with democracy, only to have the '90s thrust upon us like scented salt under our noses, waking up like disoriented ants whose anthill had suddenly been struck by a shovel. In those wicked times, even for the most decent among us, it was challenging to discern the reasons and consequences, as well as to resist the most difficult thing that war brought – the nauseating recognition of human insignificance. In the graveyard of Yugoslav dreams, evaluating material damages and the number of victims as a measure of defeat, we realized firsthand that there are no winners in war. We collectively suffered, including those who left their homelands, reconciled with the fact that their children, far from their first cousins, would dream in foreign languages.Top of Form            

Soon after that, we were swiftly deceived by new technology, and online conflicts over memes became the most formidable challenge awaiting us, or the battle for the remote control when our favorite series is on one channel and a sports match on another. Once again, we lulled ourselves to sleep, grateful that we're still alive and not embroiled in wars like distant Chechens and African countries, about which we remain uncertain as to whether they are on the sunny or shaded side of the continent. We were convinced that we fulfilled our duty toward the future by voting, hoping that the elected officials would satisfy our appetite for peace and justice. After all, who among us, amidst so much work and overtime, grocery shopping and gardening, children's practices, and their musical lessons, has the time to wander around political party gatherings? Like frogs placed in a pot to slowly boil alive, from which they don’t jump out, we silently endured the suspicious connection of toppling New York skyscrapers with the destruction of Iraq, the Arab Spring, and other ‘seasons’ in Libya, Syria, and Afghanistan. Now, we peek out of the pot to see what's cooking in Ukraine and Israel, what will be served in Iran and Taiwan, and who knows in which other restaurant. Perhaps again in the Balkans?

We cast our votes, only to find ourselves iceless.

Carelessly, we surrendered the world into the hands of invisible abductors whose lobbyist directives are carried out by leaders, many of whom lack fundamental diplomatic qualifications. Instead of ushering prosperity, they constantly introduce new war topics into humanity’s daily agenda. In September 2023, members of the Canadian Parliament gave a standing ovation to the 'Hero who fought against the Russians in World War II,' triggering a scandal that revealed the Canadian government’s donation of 2.2 million over the last seven years to various groups associated with the aforementioned hero and a member of the Waffen-SS division, Jaroslav Hunka. On Nov 9^th, 2023, Canada voted against a United Nations resolution aimed at resolving the conflict in Israel, Gaza, and the West Bank, against protecting the civilian Palestinian population and their property, and against everything else indicating the vulnerability of their rights and their decades-long mistreatment.

The power of world leaders is no longer reflected in the number of warheads; the strength lies in the hands of media and journalists who, far from the battlefield, manipulate information and our emotions. Like instigators of street dogs, without legitimate reports, they hypnotize us with absurd slogans and terrify us with the newly elected forces of the axis of evil. From the lips of skillfully beautified speakers, a poisonous doctrine skillfully slides, which many people take for granted, and in addition to supporting it, they feel entitled to harass dissenters. An unusual word snuck into the articles of the renowned New York Times - obfuscation, whose definition is the activity of blurring people's understanding, leaving them confused.

Once, hockey used to be the main topic in Canada, but over time, the peaceful audience got infected with the virus of the political circus. What they would have once been ashamed of has now become acceptable rhetoric: 'Kill all Russians,' 'Flatten Gaza,' 'Too bad Hitler didn't finish the job.' Fear, survival instinct, propaganda dehumanizing the enemy, trauma, stress, and moral erosion will squeeze the worst out of people. We endure colleagues and neighbors who cheer for chosen sides as if it were a sports or gladiator game. At the Cinematic School in Los Angeles, digital animation students study the very popular video game "This War of Mine," inspired by the experiences of Sarajevo residents during the 92-96 war. In the game, players must use their ingenuity to survive snipers and the siege of the city. I wonder if they, like me, shudder at the sound of fireworks when they put down their joysticks, thinking it's a grenade.

No, war is not a game, although it can start because of soccer.

Regardless of how well the game plan seems to be, it always uncontrollably spreads and comes with a hefty price tag - in human lives. War shatters communities and tears apart social structures; the nation's potential declines because everything is directed toward the machinery of war. It leaves deep psychological scars, especially on children who face the reality of death and destruction. Humanitarian crises and displacement are obligatory side effects, along with the animosity of warring nations. After the war, traces of suffering and loss remain that transcend generations.

Have we, defeated by our own powerlessness and the selfish gene we've carried since the beginning of time, reconciled with the fact that the history of our civilization is an extensive archive of war? We bowed our heads to constant insults, hung intelligence and dignity on the coat rack, comforted that this time, we are not the victims. Those we elected to represent us responsibly have fallen short of our expectations. The concept of democracy terribly stinks in an era of shameless firings and public persecution of dissenters; instead of dialogue and tolerance, we listen to arguments and frustrations, complicity following the theft of civic taxes for weapons production and further destruction.

Who will clean up this mess?

Without justice, there can be no peace, and justice, donned in makeup, is consistently tardy. While the frogs are boiling, and human rights are evaporating, terrorists have taken cleaning into their own hands, with their sanitary supplies. Their terror is answered with terror, supported by media obfuscation that takes us back to the Flintstones era.

Those with a compassionate heart must have sensed it tearing in half at the sight of photos of kidnapped Israeli children and their Palestinian peers. When we attack the innocent, the purpose of the fight loses its value because, by that act, we have eliminated humanity from ourselves. Justice does not lie in the skill of warfare; every conflict resolved without violence is a triumph of humanity over its destructive instincts.

Heroes don't go to war; they fight against it, for life in Orbit 2062.