what does a white middle-class English boy do in a conflict zone? He rides into concrete walls, drives around roundabouts, buys milk from shops that aren’t selling it. Somewhere in the noise and confusion, I realised a few things. That it’s essential to remain impartial – but impossible to do so. That confusion may be more productive than resolution. That things aren’t supposed to make sense.
The press offer us reports of progress in the Middle East. They promote a narrative that edges towards ultimate resolution. And it’s their duty to do so: we are addicted to a Christian / Humanist rhetoric of salvation. But the complexity of the Middle East doesn’t seem to fit into tidy dialectics. After all, we must – at the very least – be prepared to listen to the other side to form an antithesis. And I didn’t meet a single person that wanted to do that.
So while it’s important to stand by something, to have an opinion, I think its more important to offer an alternative. Because whatever beliefs I hold true, I’d like to hold them lightly, flip them over, even toss them into the wind.
