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From Mensagenda - December 2001
Four Silver Swords of Fear and Hate
Jeff Beeman
I watched in stunned disbelief as the horrible
vengeance of four silver swords, guided by the hands of corrosive fear and
hate, rained rubble and fiery death upon innocent victims on Sept. 11, 2001.
In vain, I waited to be awakened from what I hoped was only a vivid,
terrible dream. In the following days, I became acutely aware that,
once again ‘had a front row seat at a seemingly endless performance
presented upon the stage of the theater of nihilism.
During my life I had seen similar atrocities appear
with frightening regularity: the assassinations of the ‘60s, the national
nightmare that Vietnam became, Bosnia, relentless strife and hostility in
Ireland and the Middle East, Columbine, Oklahoma City, and other screaming
headlines too numerous to recount had preceded this recent abomination,
which now demanded our attention as it was added to the scrolling litany of
our collective, blood-smeared history. If any of these had been
movies, almost everyone would have walked out in disgust long ago, angrily
demanding a refund. Yet, they were not movies, We could not leave.
We could only look on in a slate of shock and horror, finally too profound
for mere words to describe.
A few short days later, our daughter called us a
second time (the first came on the day of the attack and was meant to assure
herself that we were safe and in no immediate danger). During the
conversation, she said that, to the best of her recollection, this was the
most significant world event in her young life. The implications of
that statement took a while to sink in with me. I soon realized with
overwhelming sadness that the endless march of misery and suffering was
poised to plague yet another generation of innocent children.
Our daughter, thankfully, is a kind, generous, and
loving person; she seems to be optimistic and hopeful by nature.
Regrettably, she now sees with the eyes of a young adult how horribly people
are capable of treating each other. What a dreadful coming-of-age
message she received! Of course, she also saw the inspiring scenes of
courage and selfless sacrifice shown by those who worked tirelessly and
heroically to search for survivors, provide medical assistance, and quell
the conflagration. Will those scenes be enough to overcome her
revulsion about the event that made those same efforts necessary? What
scars will this and other similarly terrible things she may eventually see
during her lifetime leave? How will she be changed?
I also wonder: What fate awaits the children who have
“survived” only to be orphaned, both here and abroad, or have become
refugees because of such things? Even in those instances where their
families or cities remain intact, all of the children have been placed in
harm’s way. That, my friends, may be the longest-lasting fallout from
all such events; the cumulative effect of the forcible sundering of the
young from their innocence and the as-yet-to-be-reckoned toll such things
may exact in time. We always say that children are the hope of our
future. But, what gives them hope?
If children, initially lull of trust, promise, and
hope are, by whatever means, made to grow up without any reason to hope,
some of them will soon learn that the world is a place to be feared above
all else. That fear, if manipulated carefully by those preaching a
corrupted “theology," will be transformed into hate. Those same
innocent, trusting souls become ready-made to be further twisted to believe
that hate is their greatest ally and a source of strength. The only
additional ingredient needed to complete this circle of perversion is an
object upon which to vent their hate. Such will certainly be provided.
Following this shameful, ages-old blueprint creates a weapon that can be
fired at will. Collateral damage is measured in the tragic destruction
of a human soul. What remains is something that has been irrevocably
defiled and “lives” in a soulless, endlessly painful darkness. The
depth of hate they revel in is every bit as inexpressible by them as our own
inability to articulate the magnitude of our grief over what their hate
causes them to inflict upon us. Dwelling in such a living hell, is it
any wonder they don’t fear death? What they fear most of all is life!
Life, in all of its aspects, from monumental to trivial, only further fuels
their venomous rage because it repudiates their toxic doctrine by the mere
fact of its continued existence.
Am I overstating this? I don’t believe so.
After all, the only “agenda” presented by these morally bankrupt merchants
of hate is the pursuit of a senseless, ceaseless war on innocents, which
produces only mourners and graves. They show the same callous
disregard for their own kind, whom they willingly slaughter, to promote
their “cause.” With such implacable opponents arrayed against us, can
we ever expect any letup in the bloodshed? The words and spirit of
their own inflammatory rhetoric speaks chillingly to that point; as long as
life and breath exists in one of them, they will give neither quarter nor
mercy, save that provided by a painful death, which they will eagerly
provide to everyone perceived as their mortal enemy. This includes all
of us outside of their unholy circle.
Are we going to continue to hang our windows in crepe
and sadly tabulate the physical cost of the wreckage and ruin visited upon
us by those who, like their predecessors, run amok among us? How high
must the emotional toll, which remains incalculable, climb? How many
more such horrific manifestations must we be forced to witness before we cry
out “Enough!" in a loud, anguished voice that carries genuine conviction,
for once and all? In the meantime while we’re still reeling in our
current grief, how many more children have been placed upon the road that
leads to becoming dispensable cannon fodder?
To oppose this most current horde, we have to resort
to force of arms ourselves, Perhaps there is a place for such means as
this if used judiciously and in conjunction with other sanctions.
Sadly, the horrible actions of some people have caused them to surrender
their right to walk freely among us. They have been irredeemably
damaged and must be restrained and isolated from the rest of us forever,
nevermore to dispense their virulent poison that corrupts absolutely.
Concurrent with this, keep in mind that the real battleground is where it
has always been — within the heart and soul of each and every one of us, for
it is here where our best and worst impulses arise. It is also where
our real power for lasting change must come from.
Along the way, we must remember that almost everyone
we meet is still a person of goodwill, despite superficial differences of
appearance, faith principles, etc. Just like you and me, they grieve
and long for peace for themselves and their own. While all of us have
experienced episodes of fear, anger, and pain (which come with the territory
of normal daily living), most everyone will get past these things with the
passage of time and the healing it brings. Be grateful for the ability
to feel these things; when properly channeled, they give nuance and richness
to life. However, we must never allow them to rule our actions.
If we maintain that perspective, we will be eternally better off than those
who can’t or won’t ever let go of a malignant ‘vision” while the only peace
they can ever envision eludes them on this side of the grave. Going
through our grief, as each of us must, can arm us with the wisdom gained by
feeling our passion without surrendering to such utter despair. A
vital part of this will require us to reach out and make genuine, lasting
common cause with all others who share our passionate desire to preserve
hope.
As long as the capacity for hope survives, the defeat
of those who seek to divide and destroy us, whether found within our midst
or outside our borders, is possible. Wherever we find hope, we must
work to nurture, grow, and spread it to the rest of our ravaged and
anguished world. Such a simple act of sharing will help sustain hope
in ourselves during the difficult times ahead, long after the patriotic
anthems have died away. Should we fail, we would hand an undeserved
victory over to those who inhabit that nether world beyond the reach of all
hope. Don’t allow the worst of us to define the rest of us. May
the sacrifices and deaths of all of the innocents plus the sorrowful tears
and agony of those who have buried them, finally mean something!
People of goodwill everywhere are urged to enlist in
this holiest of all possible causes. Do it for my children, your
children, all of the children, both living and yet to be. Together we
must resist these hopelessly depraved fraternities of fear in their efforts
to continue to victimize, harm, and hold our children hostage!
Whatever happens to one of us happens to all of us eventually. Who
knows? By doing something so human and ordinary, we may yet accomplish
the extraordinary.
In closing, I would like to resurrect a phrase used as
a rallying call by some members of the Black community during the ‘60s that
invokes a message of solidarity and transcendence, reminding us what our
real task needs to be: "Keep the Faith, Baby.”
Amen.
© 2001 Jeff Beeman
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