July/August 2006 Editorial
“If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t. And contrary-wise, what it is, it wouldn’t be. And what it wouldn’t be, it would. You see?” (Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, 1865) “It’s a turned-around world where things are all too quickly turned around. It was turned around so that right looked wrong. It was turned around so that up looked down. It was turned around so that those who marched in the street with Bibles and signs for peace became enemies of the state and a risk to national security, so that those who questioned the operations of those in authority on the principles of justice, liberty, and equality became the vanguard of a ‘communist attack.’” (Gil-Scott Heron, "A Poem for José Campos Torres, "1978) Security. The so-called war on terror. Preemptive military strikes. Torture of enemy combatants. Secret detention centers. A wall along the U.S.-Mexico border. All in the name of security. We live in a one-word society, where every aspect of domestic and foreign policy is examined through the looking glass of security. It has become a tragic comedy, where the spin of the story has become more important than the story itself. Government officials leak information to the media to protest corruption, incompetence, and illicit dealings, yet their bosses focus on identifying the leaks rather than addressing the issues. Human rights monitors release dramatic evidence of torture and inhumane practices, but rather than rooting out the evildoers, Bush administration bureaucrats spend their time spinning a web of denial and parsing terminology regarding the “definition” of torture. Only in such a bipolar world could someone call this month’s suicides in Guantánamo an “act of asymmetrical warfare against us,” which on June 10th Navy Rear Admiral Harry Harris accused the three dead men of doing on behalf of al-Qaida. Only in such a twisted mind-state could a politician call these acts of ultimate desperation a publicity stunt, as Colleen Graffy, the U.S. deputy assistant secretary of state for public diplomacy, did on June 11th. “It does sound like this is part of a strategy – in that they don’t value their own lives, and they certainly don’t value ours; and they use suicide bombings as a tactic,” Graffy told BBC’s “Newshour” program. “Taking their own lives was not necessary, but it certainly is a good PR move.” In such a nonsensical "wonderland" – one in which Democrats push one another aside to show their tough-on-crime and homeland security credentials – it is tempting to keep one’s head down and avoid the glare of an increasingly omnipresent Big Brother. So why is it that so many people – activists and ordinary citizens alike – are choosing to stand up and challenge those who seek to exclude and oppress them? Why are others walking directly into potentially violent situations, with nothing to protect them save words of peace and spirits of dignity? This issue of Fellowship highlights stirring examples of people moving toward sources of violence, rather than away to presumably safer ground. Our writers offer stories of courage in Sri Lanka, where the world’s first grassroots nonviolent peace force works in the midst of burning low-intensity warfare; in Cuba, where a group of Catholic peace activists walked 70 miles across the country to the Guantánamo prison gates to protest torture and illegal detentions; in Zambia, where educators engage refugees and young people who are being recruited into political violence; in Iraq, where – as kidnapping victim Norman Kember reminds us – the Christian Peacemaker Team continues its witness for nonviolence and justice in the midst of civil war; and indeed, here in the United States, where undocumented immigrants pursue economic “security” within the nation that sponsors state violence in many of their homelands, and that refuses to acknowledge its role in forcing people to migrate. Yes, even in a fantastical and fearful world, we can be inspired to lives of integrity, rooted in moral and spiritual practice. In her acclaimed book Buddha, Karen Armstrong reminds us, “The great empires, manned by vast armies of soldiers, have all crumbled, but the community of bhikkhus [Buddhist practitioners] has lasted some 2,500 years. … The message seems to be that it is not by protecting and defending yourself that you survive, but by giving yourself away.” We hope you will find this issue of Fellowship to help you consider “giving yourself away” in some fashion, secure in the knowledge that the human spirit is strong and unbroken.
©2006 Fellowship of Reconciliation
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