An unusually rare Bay Area homecoming
By Vicki Nguyen
Alas, the prodigal son has finally come home. Oftentimes, this sort of affair is a marked event, a family's legacy nonetheless. John Walker Lindh's homecoming, however, truly takes the cake. Hands bounded, feet shackled and incarcerated, his homecoming is envied by no one.
Surely, Lindh cannot expect anything better. After all, this American Taliban warrior was reportedly caught fighting against his countrymen in a war that is deemed profound and rather emotional. In the peace-loving United States of America, the act of terrorism is considered odious, and when its result is the tragic loss of thousands of innocent lives, enemies are defined.
Off to war patriotic Americans go, to smoke out the evildoers, salvage a corrupted government, aid the God-fearing citizens, and assert to the world that terrorism is never to be tolerated. Amidst all this fervent patriotism, an American showed up amongst the opposition � Lindh. To his comrades, it must have felt like triumph; yet to his fellow countrymen, this could easily be akin to a slap in the face, an insult to injury, a puzzlement notwithstanding.
There exists a stereotype that college-aged individuals can go from idealism to extremism in a flash. Being a 20-year-old myself, I occasionally find ground for such belief. Questions to answer, things to achieve, character to build, beliefs to define, enough to overwhelm and delude a passionate yet inexperienced mind. From the bits and pieces reported on Lindh, it sounds as if he is one with strong conviction and confidence. He does not hesitate to search for answers, impose his views on others, and practice his belief. It, unfortunately, also alludes to traits of inflexibility and instability.
Lindh's parents have been on a frenzied crusade to save their son. Naturally, John Lindh is first and foremost their son, the child they had given birth to, raised to the best of their ability and would give their lives for. This sentiment is apparently shared by other parents, such as first lady Laura Bush, who has publicly expressed her empathy. The family is shocked at the turn of events that involve their son. When they sent him off to Afghanistan to study Islam, little did they know that their son's studies would take such a wrong turn. While most parents could only hope for a letter or a copy of a report card, all Lindh's parents have to do to "be in touch" with him these days is turn on the television or tune into the news.
One can only imagine what a devastating, perplexing, and humbling experience this is for the parents. If such is true, however, it sure hasn't been obvious, at least not from Lindh's father's words and actions thus far.
As his son is facing criminal charges for conspiring to kill American soldiers, Frank Lindh emphatically declares his son's love for America. Despite the incriminating images flashing across the television daily, and despite the basic facts that John was captured as a war prisoner, Mr. Lindh earnestly maintains "John did not take up arms against America. He never meant to harm any American, and he never did harm any American." Perhaps Mr. Lindh is simply being technical, arguing that no one actually saw John's bullets hit any American targets.
Perhaps John indeed loves America, so much, in fact, that he'd go to great length to enlighten Americans of his ideals. At this point, I suppose this father is desperate enough to have his son come off as incompetent rather than as a criminal.
Whatever the cause, it'd be nice if the next words coming from Lindh's parents involve accepting some responsibilities, respecting their son's intentions (however controversial), and showing a little more faith in American people's intelligence. Putting myself in Lindh's shoes, I'm not sure I'd appreciate my parents parading me as an incapable 20-year-old, who is none the wiser, blinded by passion, easily bullied into being a warrior � oblivious to who the opponents are or what war it is.
Whatever the outcome, I sincerely hope Lindh will realize how lucky he is to have a home to come back to, parents awaiting with unconditional love, and a civilization that'll undoubtedly grant him the benefit of the doubt. Now, how many prisoners of war can claim the same?