East, West, and the crisis of ignorance

By Johnny D. Symon

Yesterday another of life's little mysteries rubbed up against my person when I took my usual weekly visit to Lidls supermarket in Sotogrande, Spain. Lidls, as you may know, is a German owned chain and I've recently heard that rich folks in Sotogrande of English persuasion and demeanor, have renamed the joint Fortnum and Masons. For the life of me I can find no logical connection between those entities, but then again I never have been able to find a logical connection between myself and those English entities either.

But during yesterday's weekly soirée I found myself at the checkout with two Canadian guys in front of me. They were buying everything to do with barbecue and one of them cast a careful glance at the writing on a sack of coals then burst into laughter. Lidls print the grim details of each product in several languages and one of them is German, this was what Canada-boy found so funny. Both of them then feigned speaking in German as neither of them knew the language, that's when I figured to interject on Germany's behalf seeing as Angela Merkel or "Mein Teil" Till Lindemann were not present. I explained that the German language happens to be one of my favorites and although it sounds funny to the uninitiated it's really a very expressive means of communication. I've also found it to be the best language of subtle abuse, it's fun to use. Any language that substitutes the English word bar with kneipe gets my vote, and the Germans do indeed possess a distinct sense of humor, and a distinct type of kneipe too.

My newfound Canadian acquaintances seemed unimpressed, in fact they figured the best thing to do was change the subject by making a statement, one said, "You're American! Where do you come from?" and I thought to myself that the psychology behind this statement sort of jingled along in a strangely unique fashion, though don't ask me why, it's just that I tried to use that statement on an imaginary German friend; "You're German! Where are you from?" and somehow it just made no sense at all. But you know? there once was a politician in Canada whose name sounded like "Tru-dough" and every time I heard his name I'd think Pillsbury, though I can't think why. But yesterday's Canada meet had me puzzling over something else because on those rare occasions where my path crosses a Canadian one, it always turns out to be two ... two Canadians that is. In my experience they only ever travel in pairs, and both of them appear to be of the masculine gender.

A couple of years ago I was on a train headed out of Algeciras, Southern Spain, when two guys rolling bicycles, entered my compartment. Now I have to admit that they hailed from Seattle, though again I have to admit that for folks who entered the world screaming and kicking way down South of the Mason-Dixon Line, Seattle is either Canada or either still of the Arctic Circle. I've only once in my life visited Seattle, and that was en route to Vancouver, and you know something? I couldn't tell the difference between the two; everyone looked the same and sounded the same, as did the cities where they lived, but that's only my opinion of course.

But the two Sattlenadians I met on the train two years back had been saddle-nading themselves around Morocco, and this time they were planning to make their big debut on Spanish soil. One of them asked me if Spain had some form of congress or government, and sadly I had to admit that they indeed had. I use the term sadly because only a year had passed since José Maria Aznar and the Conservative party ceased to govern. Interestingly, since my liaison with those two bikers on the train, mortgage interest rates have risen by a staggering 30%. Prices have gone through the roof, and the average Spaniard is signing on the dotted line for credit. Spain is now importing more than it exports, etc and etc.

But this is besides the point, the point being; what kind of question can seriously be posed, such as "Does Spain have some form of congress or government?" They'd just been traveling round Morocco, where a newly established form of government was actively in place. Logically a European nation would have a similar political base, though maybe my two friends still knew little about Morocco and it's form of governance, despite having cycled round it.

So maybe there's a lesson for all of us in this: Many times I've heard the term "East meets West," or "West meets East," though I've never heard a similar version like "North meets South." Culturally the divide between both halves of the Mason-Dixon Line remain, and every four years it gets exemplified by the contents of each sides ballot box. But "East meets West," at least in the political world, has become an accepted fact and it's a fact I don't accept as valid. As with the North/South divide, division still remains between East and West, and the ignorance besetting my fellow travelers on that Southern Spanish train serves as a reminder of why so little has changed in East-West relations. I was taught to know my enemy, though nowadays I'm told that my enemy should be known as a friend, something of which I can never accept.

For many years I've regarded Russia as the West's prime enemy, and Rocket-man Putin has recently confirmed this. While Iran tries to find common ground with the US, Russia has been lining up targets for its new super-weapon. I'm still waiting for Western politicos to ask the Poot why he feels this new weapon is necessary. Iran is his ally and Syria too. Russia and China are strong trade partners. So where does the threat lie to warrant such a deterrent? Maybe deterrent is the wrong word in Russia's case. I suspect the weapon has been built to be used offensively not defensively.

The Poot has looked into the future to gaze at an Energy Scenario and planned accordingly. Everything about Russia since the Poot took control equates as nothing less than the term "menace." While Russia plans for the future, the average Westerner remains ignorant, not only of those nations we perceive as our friends and allies, though worse still, they remain ignorant of something more important. To know your enemy you must first determine who your enemy really is, failing to do so is a form of ignorance that will lead the unsuspecting world to laughingly drag itself over the hot poothickery of a future energy crisis.

© Johnny D. Symon