The Long War Journal: Living with Wolves

Written by Bill Roggio on March 15, 2005 1:21 PM to The Long War Journal

Available online at: http://www.longwarjournal.org/archives/2005/03/living_with_wol.php

The saga of Giuliana Sgrena, the Italian journalist of the Communist newspaper Il Manifesto who was kidnapped by Iraqi terrorists and shot at upon her ride to freedom, has been well covered by a host of bloggers and columnists, but Jack Kelly of the Pittsburgh Post Gazette gets to the meat of the issue. Ms. Sgrena saw the Iraqi “resistance” as her natural allies and viewed herself as immune from the depravations of her kidnappers:

Sgrena went to Iraq to report on the heroic resistance to the American imperialists. Dutch journalist Harald Doornbos rode in the airplane to Baghdad with her.

"Be careful not to get kidnapped," Doornbos warned Sgrena.

"You don't understand the situation," she responded, according to Doornbos' account last week in Nederlands Dagblad. (Excerpts were translated into English and posted on a Dutch writer's Web blog.) "The Iraqis only kidnap American sympathizers. The enemies of the Americans have nothing to fear."

The words of Ms. Sgrena brings to mind the tale of Little Red Riding Hood, as told by James Finn Gardner in his seminal book, Politically Correct Bedtime Stories.

There was once a young person named Red Riding Hood who lived with her mother on the edge of large wood. One day her mother asked her to take a basket of fresh fruit and mineral water to her grandmother’s house – not because this was womyn’s work, mind you but because the deed was generous and helped engender a feeling of community. Furthermore, her grandmother’ was not sick, but rather was in full physical and mental health and was fully capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult.

So Red Riding Hood set off with her basket through the woods. Many People believed that the forest was a foreboding and dangerous place and never set foot in it. Red Riding Hood, however, was confident enough in her own budding sexuality that such obvious Freudian imagery did not intimidate her.

On the way to Grandma’s house, Red Riding Hood was accosted by a wolf, who asked her what was in her basket. She replied, “Some healthful snacks for my grandmother, who is certainly capable of taking care of herself as a mature adult.”

The wolf said, “You know, my dear, it isn’t safe for a little girl to walk through these woods alone.”

Red Riding Hood said, “I find your sexist remark offensive in the extreme, but I will ignore it because of your traditional status as an outcast from society, the stress of which has caused you to develop your own, entirely valid, worldview. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way.”

Red Riding Hood walked along the main path. But, because of his status outside society had freed him from slavish adherence to linear, Western-style thought, the wolf knew a quicker way to Grandma’s house. He burst into the house and ate Grandma, an entirely valid course of action for a carnivore such as himself. Then unhampered by rigid, traditionalist notions of what was masculine and feminine, he put on Grandma’s nightclothes and crawled into bed.

Red Riding Hood entered the cottage and said. “Grandma, I have brought you some fat-free, sodium-free snacks to salute you in your role of a wise and nurturing matriarch.”

From the bed, the wolf said softly. “Come closer, child, so that I might see you.”

Red Riding Hood said, “Oh, I forgot you were optically challenged as a bat. Grandma, what big eyes you have!”

“They have seen much, and forgiven much, my dear.”

“Grandma, what a big nose you have – only relatively, of course, and certainly attractive in its own way.”

“It has smelled much, and forgiven much, my dear.”

“Grandma, what big teeth you have!”

The wolf said “I am happy with who I am and what I am,” and leaped out of bed. He grabbed Red Riding Hood in his claws, intent on devouring her. Red Riding Hood screamed, not out of alarm at the wolf’s apparent tendency towards cross-dressing, but because of his willful invasion of her personal space.

Her screams were heard by a passing woodchopper-person (or log-fuel technician, as he preferred to be called). When he burst into the cottage, he saw the melee and tried to intervene. But as he raised his ax, Red Riding Hood and the wolf both stopped.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” asked Red Riding Hood.

The woodchopper-person blinked and tried to answer, but no words came out.

“Bursting in here like a Neanderthal, trusting your weapon to do your thinking for you!” she exclaimed. “Sexist! Speciesist! How dare you assume that womyn and wolves can’t solve their own problems without a man’s help!”

When she heard Red Riding Hood’s impassioned speech, Grandma jumped out of the wolf’s mouth, seized the woodchopper-person’s ax, and cut his head off. After this ordeal, Red Riding Hood, Grandma, and the wolf felt a certain commonality of purpose. They decided to set up an alternative household based on mutual respect and cooperation, and they lived together in the woods happily ever after.

Ms. Sgrena, like the modern Politically Correct version of Little Red Riding Hood, believes she can walk through the dangerous woods without consequence, and peacefully coexist with wolves. The wolves of the forest are not a threat to her existence, but merely "outcasts from society" with an "entirely valid worldview." Those who challenge her beliefs, those who would act as the protectors of both her individual safety and civilization by taking action against the wolves, are deemed the true enemy.

Would that it be as simple as to provide the Giuliana Sgrenas of the world the opportunity to test their theories on the accommodating nature of the Islamofascists and their tolerance and respect for Westerners who oppose the actions of the Coalition in the War on Terror. But this experiment has been carried out countless times, always with the same result. History is filled with examples of what happens to those who appease madmen and ignore their true intentions. The Giuliana Sgrenas refuse the lessons of history and in their utter contempt for Western civilization purposefully mistake wolves for grandmas and woodchopper-persons for wolves.

An Aside:

Please drop by Election Projection and give Scott Elliott your best wishes. His parents were murdered in Iraq one year ago today. Scott honors his parents and displays a level of faith and optimism that should inspire us, whether you are religious or not. I met Scott when I first started blogging, right after his parents were killed, and he has been nothing but kind and helpful. I wish you the best, Scott. Lorie Byrd has a kind post for Scott over at PoliPundit.