Pale Blue Hope
by Ronald Poulton
Winnipeg: Turnstone Press, 2009, ISBN 978-0-88801-330-9, 224 pp., $22.00 paper.

In Pale Blue Hope, Ronald Poulton writes about his experiences as a United Nations peacekeeper in Cambodia during the threat of the Khmer Rouge and in Tajikistan following the ambush and killings of a previous observer force called Team Garm. Although this collection may be classified as creative-nonfiction, Poulton admits to changing names of individuals to protect their privacy. Pale Blue Hope combines the narrative skill of a spy-thriller combined with the humanism of an essayist. Each section forms its own unity rather like a short story, though the reading is slowed by the sheer weight and diversity of the material.

Early on, Poulton explains his attraction to UN work. As a disillusioned Catholic youth, attracted to Perry Mason and becoming a lawyer, only to be struck by "the greed and lechery and lies" (14), he aspired to a higher calling and the urge to "save the world" even as he assumed his father as a fighter pilot during World War II had done. Just as his father's obstinate advice "not to volunteer" for anything suggests that he suffered some disillusionment during the war, so Poulton's expectations as a United Nations peacekeeper are seen to be sadly compromised in the course of the essays.

Poulton quickly learns that as a foreigner and a UN worker he is forever an outsider who must live in barricaded lodgings that not only offer protection but also prevent access to the true situation facing the country. On the one hand, Poulton feels that he is being kept off-limits and that this segregation is counter-productive; on the other hand, an undercover world hostile to the United Nations persists in many areas, as he discovers after venturing off those limits. He later learns that all his movements were monitored by the local police supported by the government in power.

United Nations peacekeepers also experience hostility while investigating the Team Garm killings in Tajakistan. When a colleague warns Ronald that it is not safe to make inquiries based on his cleaning lady's advice (44), he must consider the truth of the reported words, ridiculous as their source may be. He finds himself questioning his role as a peacekeeper and eventually comes to the disconcerting conclusion that peace is "unenforceable." In a conversation with a fellow worker, they together decide that the United Nations' role is merely to display the "pale blue hope" of their flag and security helmets.

The alien nature of the Tajikistan culture to a western sensibility becomes nowhere clearer than in "Buzkashi," in which Poulton describes attending the traditional sport of that name. In the violent Buzkashi, which is traced back to a Mongolian tradition as a means of preparing young men for war, the goat (at one time a prisoner-of-war was used) is dismembered and pulverized in the course of a swift game on horseback. Although Poulton in the preceding essay "Vodka" decries the Russian love for cheap vodka and its effects, notably on the army peacekeepers, in this article we witness him attempting to immerse himself in that same culture before being dragged by his friends to witness the game. When a small boy watching the event from the sidelines is trampled by a horse, Poulton finds that he has seen more than he wanted:

The game pauses, the riders hold their mounts tight for less than a minute as the boy is carried off, and then the game is on again and someone has the dead goat and is breaking for the finishing line. (91)

Poulton concludes that "death is too commonplace in Tajikistan and not frightening enough to stop a Buzkashi game from continuing, or its fans from leaving."

In the final series of articles, Poulton describes the trial in a local court of law of Muslim extremists charged with killing four members of Team Garm. When Poulton guesses the truth of their torture (one has a broken nose) and finds them deprived of certain basic human rights such as the desire to remain silent and to confer properly with a lawyer, he is thoroughly discouraged with the legal proceedings. The judge appears to be a bully, and whether the men actually committed the murders remains uncertain.

In a discussion with the prosecutor about the western and Middle Eastern justice systems, some interesting differences in philosophy and worldview become apparent. Whereas Poulton argues the benefits of habeas corpus and the right to assume innocence until proven guilty, the prosecutor argues that Poulton is advocating a system that "doubts the police over a criminal" and "makes no sense." Without the right to hold criminals, they can escape, the prosecutor claims, and then asks in disgust, "Is that how Western countries function?" (144)

When the mother of one of the accused young men approaches the wife of a United Nations worker who had been killed saying that her son is a good boy and that she is sorry for the murder, Poulton is more confused than ever about whether those charged actually have committed the murder. Later he learns how the majaheen are ordered to kill and witnesses first-hand how submissively they follow the orders of the pack. However, when the United Nations asks for the convicts' sentence to be lessened from the death penalty to life imprisonment, their wishes are ignored, since the government power supported by the United Nations wants to suppress the extremist opposition in its own way. The whole experience of the trial epitomizes the futility and conflicting standards that face peacekeepers such as Poulton who, in spite of learning to bluff about the United Nations' jurisdiction to gain small headway in the spirit of justice, lose almost more than they gain on too many occasions.

Pale Blue Hope is a well-written and engaging firsthand account from a United Nations perspective, and it is quite an eye-opener. We witness the author evolving in the course of the essays from a good Catholic to someone who questions the existence of God (after a fourteen-month-old baby is shot in Cambodia and dies before his eyes, 124) and discovers that "monsters do exist," no matter what comforting untruths he finds himself compelled to tell his own young son (224). I recommend the book to anyone interested in foreign policy and to idealists who would like to bring justice to third-world countries whose worldview differs significantly from our own.

Gillian Harding-Russell lives, reviews, edits, teaches and writes in Regina. Her latest collection of poetry is I forgot to tell you (Thistledown Press, 2007).

Buy this book at McNally-Robinson Booksellers.

Back to Reviews Index