Lord Krishna in the 21st Century
The war against Saddam Hussein lasted for only 100 hours, resulting in a lopsided defeat and mass surrender. This was all viewed on television each night with videos of the latest smart bombs finding their exact targets with pinpoint accuracy.
I can't remember when a war was followed with such interest by the public. After 9-11 America’s anger was at an all time high.
Just as quick to stir, the American temperament is equally swayed by other emotions. There's no question that this war galvanized the spirit of America to rally around her armed forces, but it is also true that an even more powerful emotion soon overtook the American spirit. The fighting was predictable enough, but what happened during the aftermath of the war was totally unexpected.
I can still remember the vivid images. Without a war to report on, the center stage of the nightly news was transported from the hot desert sands of Kuwait to the bitter-cold mountains of Northern Iraq. Scenes of burning oil wells and surrendering troops were replaced with pictures of little boys and girls being buried by their grieving parents. As for the children still alive, most had little to wear on the snow covered peaks, fleeing from the ruthless Saddam as he turned what remained of his weary forces against these nomadic Kurds.
Night after night America's heart was torn apart by the pictures of these broken people. The plight of the children was especially heart wrenching. These are some of the most adorable looking children in the world and yet they were freezing to death, starving, barefoot, and struggling through ankle-deep mud up the side of a rain-swept mountain.
Of course, this happened a number of years ago and in response to their terrible plight, President Bush ordered a massive airlift of food and supplies in what became known as “Operation Provide Comfort.” The war, itself, certainly stirred the emotional fervor of the American people, but nothing compared to their outcry over the plight of these helpless children.
Again looking down the empty parade route, I suddenly became alert as another figment of my overly-imaginative mind began to appear. I was genuinely surprised; even a bit perplexed. Unlike the other military floats that I had seen earlier, the float I now saw approaching looked very strange. Instead of a mock-up of a Navy ship or something similar, the float looked more like the top of some barren mountain peak. On it I could see several devotees dressed in soiled dhotis, standing around a large brass kettle. The kettle was shimmering in the sunlight. They were stirring its contents with large wooden paddles.
Another group of devotees were sitting, each with a child bundled in their laps. These devotees were holding plates of hot prasadam and feeding the children. Above the float a large banner declared:
I was stunned. All around me the huge crowd went absolutely mad with shouts of praise and applause. In fact, their appreciation was overwhelming, even louder than their cheers for the marching troops. Suddenly l was brought back to reality.
What did this mean? I sensed from the depths of my soul that something extremely profound had just happened. I felt that a very special window had opened for me and even now, years later, I still appreciate the many things that this window allowed me to see. I want to see more and this is what this book is all about.
Public Domain Photo
DURING THE AFTERMATH OF THE PERSIAN GULF WAR, HARE KRISHNA DEVOTEES FED AND SAVED
THE LIVES OF THOUSANDS OF KURDISH CHILDREN
Chapter 4 - The Children of Northern Iraq
Ai Image created by the author