Order of the Shoe

Muntadhar al-Zeidi is quite the hero this week around the Middle East. No, make that around the world. He's the Iraqi journalist who lobbed his shoes at George Bush during the Great Decider's final triumphant "Mission Accomplished" tour this week.

Insofar as the shoes represented any threat of injury to President Bush, I'm sure virtually all Americans, including me, would deplore the assault. My understanding, however, is that Muntadhar al-Zeidi's intent wasn't to assassinate or even physically harm the president, but to express his utmost contempt and disapproval. The sort of "expressive conduct," like flag burning, protected by the First Amendment here in the USA.

"This is a farewell kiss, you dog," al-Zeidi yelled in Arabic as he tossed his shoes at Bush. "This is from the widows, the orphans and those who were killed in Iraq."

As do many other Eastern cultures, Arabs consider the human foot -- and by extention the shoe, especially the sole of the shoe -- to be "unclean." I'm not sure of the exact symbolism when a shoe is thrown at someone, but I suspect it's like thrusting your stinking feet in the target's face. In any event, Arab commentators tell us that no other act could have been as insulting.

From our point of view, the merits of the Iraqi invasion can be argued dispassionately, taking into account not only American self-interest, but an entire range of geopolitical and economic factors. Just as from the British point of view, as we all recall from our high school history books, policies adopted to regulate and tax the American colonies were intended to benefit not only the British motherland, but also the American colonists themselves -- to maintain good government and to prevent the colonies from being overrun by Indians, by France and by other imperial powers.

Our response, when British statesmen explained these grave matters of colonial and foreign policy to us, was the Boston Tea Party, our hit and run terrorism at Lexington and Concord, the Declaration of Independence, and several years of warfare, both conventional and guerilla. What if, in the midst of all this conflict, King George III had had the chutzpah to come sailing into Boston -- smirking and glad-handing and and pinning medals on his generals and admirals -- and telling us colonial hicks how bloody lucky we were to have England on hand to protect us?

Well, we weren't as sophisticated and cultivated back in those days. His Majesty would have been lucky to have gotten out of Boston free of tar and feathers, and with his wig still in place. He would hardly have noticed a couple of shoes tossed his way by a colonial newspaperman.

So let's go easy on the impetuous journalist. Save one of those shoes and have it bronzed, Mr. President. You can brag to future guests at your Texas ranch that it's the "Distinguished Order of the Shoe," presented to you by the grateful people of Iraq -- a people whom you saved from themselves.