Every day, from my hotel room in Abuja, I read about President Jonathan campaigning across the country pledging free and fair elections while refugees headed East towards Nigeria, and though I knew they weren’t coming to Nigeria, it felt as though movements throughout Africa were spreading towards my very location. Revolutions and wars were erupting all around me.

Meanwhile, I worked on drafting Facebook posts and tweets, researched and attempted to organize a donation campaign, helped launch a campaign website, and sat at the bar and drank beers with other hotel dwellers from all over the world. In Nigeria.

It was surreal.

Web of Change may sound cheesy to some who watch the flood of tweets or Facebook posts as we return, or read about how we all feel inspired to change the world. I’ll be honest: I don’t think I can change the world. From Nigeria, I saw how absolutely out of control the world is and I felt how close that was to me at that moment. All of Nigeria watched it too, and in traveling with campaign staff the conversation never ceased to focus on politics and the future of their country and of the world.

I returned home a month later to conversations about how ridiculous it is that gas prices are so high, knowing that the average daily income for a Nigerian is around $2 – less than a large cup of coffee at Dunkin Donuts. And yet, just as I had adjusted to Nigeria, I adjusted back to living in my world. But really, the latter wasn’t that difficult.

I know where I am and who I am. I am aware that change is hard, and sometimes impossible. My goal is not to change the world. My world, in all reality, is pretty great. I think my goal is simply to help other people get the lives they deserve. Justice, I suppose. But it’s more than that: human rights. Egypt and Libya happened because people were fed up with their government and with the way they were forced to live their lives, and they chose to make a change. Sure, it’s all a big mess now, but they did it – they actually did it. Gaddafi has presumably fled Libya (or is at least in hiding), and Egypt is forming a new government.

Two of the sessions I attended at Web of Change were about storytelling – the power of storytelling and the effect they can have on the movements we are trying to create. Jonah Sachs is set to publish book about the subject and talked to us about how to tell a powerful story. As he spoke, my first thought was that he would be a fantastic literature professor. While I understand the practical application a story has in online organizing, advocacy, and movement building, in a refreshing way the sessions felt like a writing class. He referenced myths, and how they are the foundation for many societies, and further how they have driven the human race forward. There is a certain structure to an effective story, to the myths that act as a foundation for our society. There is a method that works, and when that method is applied, a story can inspire people to take action. The detailed breakdown of a story into such seemingly obvious pieces struck me as being incredibly parallel to the way events in our society naturally occur.

Sachs says, “brands which tell values-driven stories through the right channels will not only revolutionize marketing, they may become humanity’s greatest hope for the future.” I think he he would agree with me that this is also true of society and of the human race in general – values-driven stories told through the right channels will inevitably be (and have been) how our society evolves, and how revolutions emerge.

Before Egypt, my generation had never seen a government truly uprooted because of protest. Think about it: the protests in Egypt actually changed an entire country. I barely remember the fall of the Berlin wall – I was six years old. But the story of the fall of the Berlin wall has continued to be told and has acted as inspiration for similar acts of rebellion. The story of Egypt’s revolution was not crafted by a writer. It wasn’t carefully constructed using the elements Jonah outlined in his sessions, but the story – the “Tahrir moment” – certainly contains those same elements. And it has inspired many in other countries to do the same. I think it has also sparked something in people my age in the United States and elsewhere to think about what we can do in our own worlds. Just take a look at Occupy Wall Street. Will it work? Maybe. Is it admirable? Sure. Was it inspired by a great story? Definitely.

As Gideon Rosenblatt wrote yesterday, “What we are seeing in Occupy Wall Street and related events around the country is our youth, at least some small segment of it, telling us that everything is not alright.” The interesting thing about Occupy Wall Street and other similar events is that there is this constant attempt to replicate a story that unfolded under entirely different circumstances. We do this all the time, but New York City is not Egypt. Our government, while it may be flawed, is not a dictatorship. Vietnam and Iraq are completely different wars, opposed or supported by generations that could not be more different. We would like parts of our world to change, but each story has to be different and we have to approach it in a different way. We can learn from each others stories, but attempting to replicate Egypt might be comparable to attempting to replicate any great novel. It’s just not possible. What is possible is to read all the time, study these inspiring stories, and break them down as Jonah did. There are people doing this, but I still think we need to focus on understanding that peaceful protest doesn’t always work. In fact, it rarely works. Most of us who attended Web of Change do not live in a world where we quite literally have to pick up a gun to protect our rights. We have rights. I think this fact alone is what makes it so difficult for us to figure out how to reach our goals.

Web of Change is a space for people to think and talk about these kinds of things. For some, it’s about how they might alter or improve the state of our oceans – prevent the trade of shark fins, or oil spills. For others, it’s trying to prevent an innocent man from being executed, and ultimately changing our flawed criminal justice system. And it’s about figuring out how we get there. For a few days 100 or so people got together and talked about the tactics we all use on a regular basis, and tried to determine not only how they relate to our campaigns, but the part they play in whatever change it is we want to make – the story we’d like to tell. Those who have been successful in doing what they want to do, and doing it well, helped teach us all how to do the same. We dove down pretty deep into specific tactics and campaigns (which I’ll write about in future blog posts), but we also talked broadly outside of the session space about where we came from, our families, and our own stories that had driven us to where we are today.

I met an incredible group of people at this conference, and while I don’t think I identify specifically with a campaign or movement just yet (and maybe I never will) I did come out of the conference understanding a bit more about what I want to do. How I want to do it isn’t clear yet, but wanting to make change, while it sounds cheesy, is actually what most of us want to do whether on a grand or minuscule scale. If you’re a writer, you want your words to inspire reflection on our own lives or our society’s choices. Teachers want to impact the future by helping shape young minds. Some of us just want to earn a paycheck, but even that is an effort to provide for ourselves or our families – changing from not eating, to eating. Sending the first person from your family to college. Uprooting a military dictator.

We all want to be a part of a great story.

Perry also blogged later on, you can find his post here.

From CNN.com:

The official Press Release:

“Cal Perry, CNN’s award-winning Baghdad bureau chief and producer, has been appointed as the network’s new international correspondent based in Beirut, Lebanon, it was announced today by Parisa Khosravi, senior vice president of international newsgathering for CNN Worldwide.

Perry, who has been instrumental in coordinating and guiding CNN’s unrivaled coverage of Iraq over the past four years, takes up his new position in April. In this new role, he will cover Lebanon and also support CNN’s growing presence across the Middle East with editorial operations in Abu Dhabi, Amman, Baghdad, Cairo, Dubai and Jerusalem.

As Baghdad bureau chief, Perry oversaw a staff of more than two dozen journalists and also reported breaking news and produced long-form programming including CNN Presents: Combat Hospital, which won a CINE award in 2007.

‘Cal’s expertise of the region is an invaluable asset for us, and I’m delighted that he is taking up a new role in Beirut,’ Khosravi said. ‘As we continue to strengthen our presence in the Middle East and in other parts of the world through our content ownership strategy adding additional correspondents and resources, having ‘can do’ reporters of his caliber are essential.’

In addition to this appointment, CNN International is also boosting its feature programming in the region with additional resources for Inside The Middle East and the acclaimed and recently launched Market Place Middle East. In addition to tapping into CNN’s planned production center in Abu Dhabi that was announced in January, both programs will have exclusive access to international correspondent Brent Sadler and his considerable knowledge and experience of the region.

This new role for Sadler underscores the importance and commitment to the region by CNN and will allow both programs to plan more in-depth and expanded coverage.

CNN Worldwide, a division of Turner Broadcasting System, Inc., a Time Warner Company, is the most trusted source for news and information. Its reach extends to nine cable and satellite television networks; one private place-based network; two radio networks; wireless devices around the world; CNN Digital Network, the No. 1 network of news Web sites in the United States; CNN Newsource, the world’s most extensively syndicated news service; and strategic international partnerships within both television and the digital media.”

Congratulations Cal!

(On a sidenote, with the recent release of WikiScanner, Conflict Blogger posted an interesting piece about changes the Israeli government may have made to certain Wikipedia entries. Though, I’ll admit, everyone and their mother has been altering the facts on Wikipedia…)

Also, our president recently increased the aid we give to Israel, adding up to over $30 billion in the next decade. Good to hear it — that way, if those d*mned a-rabs decide to act up again, we can fund the next war just like we did the last one. It’s okay though, Israel tends to put the money we give them to good use. They don’t misuse it at all. See how far our money can go?

And does anyone remember this from last summer?

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_5eBrfrWoTk]

Apparently not, or I’d think there would be more outrage over these recent developments. Granted, Sy Hersch is a little out there, but he’s also almost always right. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

Today, though, I came across this story

It began:

“As we’ve noted in this space, some have questioned details that appeared in the Diarist ‘Shock Troops,’ published under the pseudonym Scott Thomas. According to Major Kirk Luedeke, a public affairs officer at Forward Operating Base Falcon, a formal military investigation has also been launched into the incidents described in the piece.

Although the article was rigorously edited and fact-checked before it was published, we have decided to go back and, to the extent possible, re-report every detail. This process takes considerable time, as the primary subjects are on another continent, with intermittent access to phones and email. Thus far we’ve found nothing to disprove the facts in the article; we will release the full results of our search when it is completed.”

I immediately wanted to find out what the original story was. Without reading “Shock Troops” but seeing such an intense investigation and reaction from the U.S. Military, I could come to only one conclusion: the entire story, “Shock Troops,” was true.

The article continued with a statement from the author of “Shock Troops:”

“My Diarist, ‘Shock Troops,’ and the two other pieces I wrote for the New Republic have stirred more controversy than I could ever have anticipated. They were written under a pseudonym, because I wanted to write honestly about my experiences, without fear of reprisal. Unfortunately, my pseudonym has caused confusion. And there seems to be one major way in which I can clarify the debate over my pieces: I’m willing to stand by the entirety of my articles for the New Republic using my real name.

I am Private Scott Thomas Beauchamp, a member of Alpha Company, 1/18 Infantry, Second Brigade Combat Team, First Infantry Division.

My pieces were always intended to provide my discrete view of the war; they were never intended as a reflection of the entire U.S. Military. I wanted Americans to have one soldier’s view of events in Iraq.

It’s been maddening, to say the least, to see the plausibility of events that I witnessed questioned by people who have never served in Iraq. I was initially reluctant to take the time out of my already insane schedule fighting an actual war in order to play some role in an ideological battle that I never wanted to join. That being said, my character, my experiences, and those of my comrades in arms have been called into question, and I believe that it is important to stand by my writing under my real name.

–Private Scott Thomas Beauchamp“

I was hooked. I wanted to know immediately what he had written and why it was under such scrutiny. After finding the article in question, disgust rose like bile in the back of my throat.

Read on:

“I saw her nearly every time I went to dinner in the chow hall at my base in Iraq. She wore an unrecognizable tan uniform, so I couldn’t really tell whether she was a soldier or a civilian contractor. The thing that stood out about her, though, wasn’t her strange uniform but the fact that nearly half her face was severely scarred. Or, rather, it had more or less melted, along with all the hair on that side of her head. She was always alone, and I never saw her talk to anyone. Members of my platoon had seen her before but had never really acknowledged her. Then, on one especially crowded day in the chow hall, she sat down next to us.

We were already halfway through our meals when she arrived. After a minute or two of eating in silence, one of my friends stabbed his spoon violently into his pile of mashed potatoes and left it there.
‘Man, I can’t eat like this,’ he said.
‘Like what?’ I said. ‘Chow hall food getting to you?’

‘No–with that fucking freak behind us!’ he exclaimed, loud enough for not only her to hear us, but everyone at the surrounding tables. I looked over at the woman, and she was intently staring into each forkful of food before it entered her half-melted mouth.
‘Are you kidding? I think she’s fucking hot!’ I blurted out.
“What?” said my friend, half-smiling.
‘Yeah man,’ I continued. ‘I love chicks that have been intimate–with IEDs. It really turns me on–melted skin, missing limbs, plastic noses … .’

‘You’re crazy, man!’ my friend said, doubling over with laughter. I took it as my cue to continue.
‘In fact, I was thinking of getting some girls together and doing a photo shoot. Maybe for a calendar? IED Babes.’ We could have them pose in thongs and bikinis on top of the hoods of their blown-up vehicles.’
My friend was practically falling out of his chair laughing. The disfigured woman slammed her cup down and ran out of the chow hall, her half-finished tray of food nearly falling to the ground.”

It doesn’t end there. What is most compelling about this article are not the shocking descriptions of the terrible things soldiers have done, but how this particular soldier, Beauchamp, felt as he was taking part in or witnessing something he considered monstrous. It’s not entirely surprising to me that he has a conscience, what was shocking was that his conscience was seemingly being chipped away at, day after day, and though he was completely aware of it, it didn’t seem to change his actions.

“Am I a monster? I have never thought of myself as a cruel person. Indeed, I have always had compassion for those with disabilities. I once worked at a summer camp for developmentally disabled children, and, in college, I devoted hours every week to helping a student with cerebral palsy perform basic tasks like typing, eating, and going to the bathroom. Even as I was reveling in the laughter my words had provoked, I was simultaneously horrified and ashamed at what I had just said. In a strange way, though, I found the shame comforting. I was relieved to still be shocked by my own cruelty–to still be able to recognize that the things we soldiers found funny were not, in fact, funny.”

Beauchamp defends what he said, and defends the things he allows to happen by remembering a time when he actually cared and had compassion. Clearly the care and compassion is gone. He recalls those times as though they are very far away, as though he cannot believe he once did those good deeds, just as he cannot believe the deeds he is doing now. He is “relieved to still be shocked” — he knows that to laugh is wrong, but the fact that he knows he is wrong is relief enough to keep laughing. To me it seems a vicious circle.

Beauchamp goes on to describe two more memories of his time in Iraq. One recounts digging into the ground and finding children’s graves — finding piles of clothes and eventually bones. He describes one incident in which a fellow soldier decided to don a child’s skull:

“It even had chunks of hair, which were stiff and matted down with dirt. He squealed as he placed it on his head like a crown. It was a perfect fit. As he marched around with the skull on his head, people dropped shovels and sandbags, folding in half with laughter. No one thought to tell him to stop. No one was disgusted. Me included.”

Not disgusted? How sad. Just reading about it disgusts me. I suppose I should consider myself lucky — and so should you — that I am disgusted by a child’s skull being worn by a man who couldn’t give a shit about the life, or death, of that child.

The next incident is of a soldier who drives Bradley Fighting Vehicles “because it gave him the opportunity to run things over.” The soldier driving the vehicles had a particular interest in running over dogs. He even keeps tabs on how many dogs he hits per day. Beauchamp recalls with sickening detail each dog he saw killed, run over, sometimes cut in half by the heavy armored vehicle.

“Funny? Of course not. But many of my friends were laughing anyway. That is how war works: It degrades every part of you, and your sense of humor is no exception.”

This is where Beauchamp gets me. We can all say with great ease, “if I were in Iraq I would never do something like that. Ever. I would never laugh at that woman. I would never wear someone’s skull or laugh at someone who did.” Or, “I would never take joy in running over innocent animals.”

But the fact is, no matter how good a person you are, war can destroy you from the inside out. In war, I imagine there are very few things that will give you a laugh. I’m not attempting to defend what Beauchamp wrote about, but I am trying to understand it. We are, after all, going to have many many Beauchamp’s returning to this country soon, shocked and unable to deal with years of instances like these (and much worse). Though Beauchamp was aware that what he was doing and saying, and what his fellow soldiers were doing and saying, was wrong, he continued to go along with it. He participated in it, encouraged it. His piece describes ” one soldier’s view of events in Iraq” and it is for this reason that what he writes is so incredibly important.

There are some soldiers who really do like killing, who like war. It’s unfortunate, but true. There are those who hate war, who will do anything to avoid killing another human being, and who do not run over dogs but adopt them instead. There are those who do their best to obey both their orders and their conscience. I have a feeling, though, that the majority of soldiers in Iraq are just as Beauchamp described them — they laugh at “IED Broads,” skulls of children that fit perfectly onto their heads, or even running over dogs, and while they still have some understanding that what they are doing is wrong, they just can’t stop themselves.

The final lines of the piece are these:

“‘Did you run over dogs before the war, back in Indiana?’ I asked him.
‘No,’ he replied, and looked at me curiously. Almost as if the question itself was in poor taste.”

http://www.stickergiant.com/page/sg/PROD/antibush/cabs021