So, you are part of a nation; a nation which has been patched together from ten thousand villages, and towns,; with borders which date from colonial times; you have been ruled by dictators, overrun by so-called Democratic Armies, you have sent those same Armies back home, and you state that you, along with your ‘elected’ Government, can rule your country. But that rule is so one-sided that a good slice of your Nation’s people decide to rebel against your Government, and ally themselves with a bunch of murderous Caliphate-seeking madmen. That bunch proceeds to invade your towns, and your cities, and the vaunted Army melts away before their frenzied attacks.
You ask for help, from the same people who invaded your country to rid you of that dictator; ask them to train your armies, and get them to fly and bomb the invader; and you also get fresh arms and soldiers from your worst enemy, so that you might regain some territory.
That fresh infusion of arms, and training does nothing, because your Armies are badly-trained, ill-paid, cowardly, and totally lacking in moral fibre; so you plead with that foreign President to give ever more training battalions, so that you might claim some victory, any victory; and all the time you are hoping against hope that same foreign President does not notice that a huge shadowy flag is waving over your country, and the flag resembles that of Vietnam.