Johannesburg July 11th 2022
Nine point seven kilograms, that is the amount of luggage checked in at Johannesburg airport at the start of a journey that will probably lead in directions not anticipated. It is the unchecked, even unacknowledged, baggage that is more illuminating. Why someone would give up the comforts of home, remarkable privileges, really, for the risks and rewards of a zone of conflict, a full scale modern war between two large well-armed states is a question unanswered.
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In this case and in my little corner of rural South Africa, the comforts and privileges are not inconsiderable: financial security, employees and projects, polo lessons, ownership of a beautiful wine bar and an art gallery, the familiarity of community and context and, more importantly, the love of a partner.
There are reasons for this venture—bearing witness to an event, a war, that will decide the destiny of Ukraine and have impact far beyond it. Bearing witness, the Quaker theory of chronicling injustice, is a long established western tradition. As a noble end in itself it has given cause but also enabled restless spirits to pursue personal journeys. The male character is hard wired for risk and will find its fullest avenues for it in war and conflict.
Defence of home is a primal pursuit. But participation in wars that are not one’s own is something else, also with a long continuity in western history, from the hedonistic, rock and roll spirt of Lord Byron who met his end in the Greek war of independence, to the more weighty and considered George Orwell in the Spanish civil war of the 1930s.
Motivations are fine things at surface level. It is the unacknowledged ones that beg closer scrutiny. Asking questions is usually the start of something. Having the insight and truthfulness to pursue them to the end is something else. Otherwise the call that beckons is strong—commissions from top drawer publications and license to tell a story.