Delegates from across the country congregated in Washington D.C. Tuesday for “Cities for Peace Day” and expressed their displeasure with the state of affairs in Iraq. Representing nearly half the population of the United States, various individuals of assorted government posts, occupying the rungs between citizen and federal government (mayors, councilmen, state congressmen, etc.), collectively spoke out against the aging campaign of senseless bloodshed, the president who delights in it, and the congress that does not competently confront it.

The frustration and exhaustion in each delegate’s tone bespoke the daily insurmountable obstacles they, as local representatives, must surely face. There can be no doubt that the expenses incurred by the almost five year campaign in Iraq, now exceeding a trillion dollars by credible estimates, will be footed by the constituents of these statesmen and townsmen: the American Citizenry. Their desperation, so extreme that it motivated a personal trip to Capitol Hill for a day, is certainly justified: their people are going broke and getting pissed.

While I have sympathy for harried government officials of Everytown, U.S.A., I’m curious to know who has sympathy for this conflict’s non-represented victims, the eight million or so Iraqis “in need of urgent aid.” Recognizing the conspicuous absence of human rights concerns and doctrines of international law from protests put forth by the delegates, I became aware, quickly but keenly, that the true representatives of human rights’ interests are none other than those of us at the ground level. I pose this analysis in neither unfairly critical nor cynical tones; indeed these men and women were doing their own jobs more commendably than the congressmen they appealed to. The subsequent implications, however, are inescapable and plainly obvious: it appears it will be ourselves or nobody. I do believe these local government agents are honorable for their work. The dedication they substantiate with action, trekking out to D.C. and personally expressing their grievances to decision-makers at the federal level is a rarity: direct action on behalf of those they represent -an example of a functioning government seldom seen in our society, but I also understand their commitment is within reasonable limits.

The demands and responsibilities that continue to befall those of us who undertake the defense of human rights and justice -at the global level- continue unabated. We haven’t received the delegates’ help in this endeavor; at most they provide us an avenue. It is no mistake we do not see them beside us; such is the disinterest that comes with power. The unseen, the uncounted, the un-cared for, remain unrepresented. Herein the Iraq Veterans Against the War are uniquely positioned to fight for and achieve international justice, justice that crosses cultures, ethnicities, even the Atlantic Ocean.

A post by Justin C. Cliburn makes this reality plainly clear. In his eloquent account of genuine friendship and commitment, Justin expressed his consciousness of and empathy for their cause. A more formidable advocate for the protection of their dignity and safety I have yet to find. More than a moral calling or self-appointed higher-humanitarian responsibility, I think our capacity for just this sort of activism is grounded in a few simple, self-evident commonalities between us veterans and the citizens of the state we occuppied: prolonged proximity to victims of U.S. hegemony, mutual exposure to the hazards and situation-specific anxieties of war, shared loss, and the daily experience of seeing, face-to-face, the plight of the other. We were marginalized, our lives placed unnecessarily at risk by the same corrupt, imperial government. I don’t believe that anyone in the Western World understands them better than the veterans who interacted with them, day in and day out, for years. It is likely, as well, that few others are better suited to understand us than them.