There is a parable I tell those whom I am obliged to know. It is one of the lessons I present to my students when I instill in them my art. It is the subject of my first meeting with the commanders who are to execute my judgement. It is a story I share when I am forced to endure the parties of the politicians whose wills I embody.
It is as follows-
A veteran warrior took his lunch on the side of the road. He was in contested lands, but he was not afraid, for he knew that armistice had been declared, and peace would be near.
By and by, a young warrior happened upon the veteran. By the contrast of their colors, the two knew each other to belong to rival clans.
"Enemy mine," said the youth, "these are strange lands to take your repast. Are you not aware that our clans are at war? Do you not understand that it is my duty to challenge you?"
Replied the veteran, "Once at war, perhaps, but now no more. Are you unaware that the Sheathing-of-Blades is upon us? Soon, our clans' conflicts will end, and we may march forward as brothers-in-arms. So come sit with me, and let us break our fast together. For there is food at this camp for two, and room enough besides for twice again."
But the youth did not sit. Said he, "I know of no armistice. I know of no peace, nor of an end to conflict. Your words are bittersweet to my ears; a yearning for something that is not and cannot be. My duty remains the same: I am to challenge you."
The veteran rejoined, "Are you truly ignorant to this happy news? Perchance the messenger has yet to reach your company. Come, let us await his arrival together. For by my honor, I swear to you that our clans seek peace. We need not shed blood on this day."
Still, the youth did not sit. "I am a vessel of my orders and the will of my clan. The last word I received was that you are my enemy, and it is this word I am sworn to uphold. Thrice have I stated, and no more: I am duty-bound to challenge you. Take up your sword and let us fight."
Replied the veteran, "I will accept your challenge, though it brings me no joy. For I am bound to my honor, and you have questioned its worth by rejecting my peace. Let our blades meet and avail ourselves of this armistice."
The two warriors' swords clashed. Both were skilled with their weapons, though the veteran had more skill. Both were strong, though the youth was stronger. In each other's deficiencies, the two found their equals.
In several hours' time, a messenger chanced upon their bodies, each upon the other's blade. His new report of spilt blood soured the sweet armistice, and conflict consumed the two clans once again.
Knowing this, on whose shoulders does the weight of the continued war rest?
Each time I pose this question, I receive a different answer. I am always impressed by the depth of responses that seem to exist. Even those who condemn the same man often find different reasons to do so.
I am sometimes asked for the correct answer to the question. I do not believe one exists - excepting that the answer is truth for whomsoever offers it. For in the offering, I gain a measure of their morals, values, and character, and it is for this reason that I tell the parable.
I have received many answers over the years, but my favorite came to me the first night I broke bread with an enemy. In his words:
"The fault lies with the messenger. For he saw but did not observe. He knew what happened but did not try to understand why it happened. He reported the event, but he did not report the intent. For if either clan knew that their warriors died upholding their values, then the war would never have continued. At the heart of many conflicts can be found warriors whose motives are incomprehensible to those they respect."