My buddy Craig called me a few weeks ago (he’s been very good about staying connected in the age of coronavirus) and we wound up chatting about a wide range of subjects. Somehow, the topic of the India-China border spat came up. (“Somehow” = I brought it up.)

In case you’re not up to date on silly international skirmishes (the list is rather long), apparently India and China have been bickering over a border for decades. Yes, decades. (1962 Sino-Indian War, to be specific.)

The disputed border has the Monty Python-esque name of “The Line of Actual Control.” Or maybe it sounds like something from the old Get Smart TV show.

It would be laughable… if it weren’t for the fact that people are still dying fighting over a patch of dirt. On June 15th, Chinese and Indian troops clashed at the border. More than 20 soldiers died.

soldiers wielded iron bars and threw rocks and punches on the steep, jagged terrain. Many of the deaths occurred when troops fell off mountain ridges

Will we ever get to a day when these border arguments end? You’d think that a pandemic would make us realize how interconnected we are. I keep thinking of the great lyrics of the song “Territories” from Rush:

In every place with a name
They play the same territorial game
Hiding behind the lines
Sending up warning signs

The whole wide world
An endless universe
Yet we keep looking through
The eyeglass in reverse
Don’t feed the people
But we feed the machines
Can’t really feel
What international means

The final couplet really sticks with me:

Better the pride that resides
In a citizen of the world
Than the pride that divides
When a colourful rag is unfurled

Full song lyrics can be found on the Rush website

Craig sent me a text earlier this week with the line “you can sleep a little easier now” and this image:

Thank heavens they’re working toward “peace and tranquility.” But why has it been going on since 1962?

Maybe, eventually, both sides will realize that there is no Line of Actual Control (literally and figuratively). Much of life is complete chaos. Can’t we respond with kindness, instead of rocks and clubs?