Monday, September 08, 2003
In Memorium
Last night, I watched a special about the destruction of the World Trade Center. Some of it covered architectural issues such as how the building was designed, why it responded to the attacks the way it did, etc. But some dealt with the new construction being planned for the site, including a memorial for the people who died there on 9-11.
As you may have figured out by now, I am no patriot. In fact, I am a nonviolent revolutionary dedicated to the creation of a new society founded on principles such as freedom, direct democracy, bioregionalism, permaculture, free community, and abundant health, among others. So naturally, I tend to see all of this tugging on heartstrings surrounding September 11 as a ploy to manipulate the public into doing whatever the current administration wants us to do.
Even so, I felt some genuine sadness as I watched the footage from that dreadful day. These people didn't have to die. There's no reason why thousands of people should be incinerated and crushed to death in such a brutal attack. As they went on to describe the memorial itself, I felt at least two powerful emotions at once: understanding and indignation.
The understanding comes from the fact that I really do feel the horror of this tragedy. I'm no longer a bitter and angry revolutionary with little mercy for citizens of the Empire. These are human beings, fellow creatures, all of us children of the same Earth. I hold love in my heart for all beings, especially my fellow humans. If seeing their suffering doesn't bring tears to my eyes, then the "revolution" has already been defeated in my own heart before it even made it out into the world. I surprised myself while watching this show when I decided that it is very appropriate for people to build artful and enduring memorials to commemorate this horrible loss of life.
But there's a catch.
My indignation comes from the circumstances surrounding this tragedy and the U.S. in general. 9-11 is surely a day to be mourned, but there's a certain naive arrogance in the way that most of my fellow Americans go about mourning it. Let's not forget that this country got to where it is now by waging a bloody genocidal war across the entire width of North America and ultimately using treachery and violence to become the most powerful and wealthy Empire on the face of the planet. Thankfully, I've learned to feel love and empathy even for the champions and defenders of this brutal Empire, but the mortal screams of its countless victims cry out in my heart and make my blood boil every time that Americans act like 9-11 is the only tragedy that the Earth has ever seen.
Who will build a monument for the hundreds of thousands of children who died under the weight of the U.S. government wars and sanctions against Iraq? When will we set up a committee of prestigious designers to create a beautiful monument for the millions of Palestinians who have become refugees or died in their struggle for self-preservation and independence? Who will even remember the victims of the death squads in South America who were covertly [or even openly] funded and trained by the U.S. Government? These casualties far outnumber those of September 11 - and yet, because they aren't American, we feel nothing, forgetting those few whose passing we even noticed.
The greatest shock that came to me in the wake of September 11 was the feeling that I am an American. I tried to fight that feeling; after learning of all the horrors that our government has created, I sought to shut my heart off to mainstream America and prepare myself for a bitter and embattled revolution. On that fateful September day, my heart reopened to this nation, and I cried for the people who had been lost in the flaming rubble.
But my commitment to revolution was not forgotten. Yes, let's cry for our fellow Americans who died so horribly on that terrible day. But whatever we do, we must never perpetuate the very cycle of war and violence that took them from us. We must never allow "leaders" to charge us headlong into endless war in the name of the slain. Instead, we must feel their pain - feel OUR pain - and let it inform us about the pain of the rest of the world.
THIS is what it feels like to be attacked. THIS is what it feels like to be under siege. THIS is the pain of war and violence. It's enough to drive us out of our minds with anger and sadness, enough to make us want to lash out at anyone and everyone who we feel is responsible. Once we feel this, deeply and fully, we can empathize with all people who have been attacked, and all people who attack in return. We can hold love in our hearts for both; love in our hearts for all people, regardless of whether they are attacking or being attacked. We can swear from the bottom of our hearts that we will never, ever visit this terror upon the rest of the world ever again. We can swear to break the cycle by using our incredible might not for war and control, but for peaceful cooperation and world service.
So this is my resolution to the conflicted feelings I've been having about this monument and this coming anniversary. Yes, let's mourn and memorialize the passing of three thousand people on that day of terror. However, rather than letting our pain be turned into a tool for further violence and vengance, let's sink deeply into it and turn it into a foundation for justice, peace, and love.
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As you may have figured out by now, I am no patriot. In fact, I am a nonviolent revolutionary dedicated to the creation of a new society founded on principles such as freedom, direct democracy, bioregionalism, permaculture, free community, and abundant health, among others. So naturally, I tend to see all of this tugging on heartstrings surrounding September 11 as a ploy to manipulate the public into doing whatever the current administration wants us to do.
Even so, I felt some genuine sadness as I watched the footage from that dreadful day. These people didn't have to die. There's no reason why thousands of people should be incinerated and crushed to death in such a brutal attack. As they went on to describe the memorial itself, I felt at least two powerful emotions at once: understanding and indignation.
The understanding comes from the fact that I really do feel the horror of this tragedy. I'm no longer a bitter and angry revolutionary with little mercy for citizens of the Empire. These are human beings, fellow creatures, all of us children of the same Earth. I hold love in my heart for all beings, especially my fellow humans. If seeing their suffering doesn't bring tears to my eyes, then the "revolution" has already been defeated in my own heart before it even made it out into the world. I surprised myself while watching this show when I decided that it is very appropriate for people to build artful and enduring memorials to commemorate this horrible loss of life.
But there's a catch.
My indignation comes from the circumstances surrounding this tragedy and the U.S. in general. 9-11 is surely a day to be mourned, but there's a certain naive arrogance in the way that most of my fellow Americans go about mourning it. Let's not forget that this country got to where it is now by waging a bloody genocidal war across the entire width of North America and ultimately using treachery and violence to become the most powerful and wealthy Empire on the face of the planet. Thankfully, I've learned to feel love and empathy even for the champions and defenders of this brutal Empire, but the mortal screams of its countless victims cry out in my heart and make my blood boil every time that Americans act like 9-11 is the only tragedy that the Earth has ever seen.
Who will build a monument for the hundreds of thousands of children who died under the weight of the U.S. government wars and sanctions against Iraq? When will we set up a committee of prestigious designers to create a beautiful monument for the millions of Palestinians who have become refugees or died in their struggle for self-preservation and independence? Who will even remember the victims of the death squads in South America who were covertly [or even openly] funded and trained by the U.S. Government? These casualties far outnumber those of September 11 - and yet, because they aren't American, we feel nothing, forgetting those few whose passing we even noticed.
The greatest shock that came to me in the wake of September 11 was the feeling that I am an American. I tried to fight that feeling; after learning of all the horrors that our government has created, I sought to shut my heart off to mainstream America and prepare myself for a bitter and embattled revolution. On that fateful September day, my heart reopened to this nation, and I cried for the people who had been lost in the flaming rubble.
But my commitment to revolution was not forgotten. Yes, let's cry for our fellow Americans who died so horribly on that terrible day. But whatever we do, we must never perpetuate the very cycle of war and violence that took them from us. We must never allow "leaders" to charge us headlong into endless war in the name of the slain. Instead, we must feel their pain - feel OUR pain - and let it inform us about the pain of the rest of the world.
THIS is what it feels like to be attacked. THIS is what it feels like to be under siege. THIS is the pain of war and violence. It's enough to drive us out of our minds with anger and sadness, enough to make us want to lash out at anyone and everyone who we feel is responsible. Once we feel this, deeply and fully, we can empathize with all people who have been attacked, and all people who attack in return. We can hold love in our hearts for both; love in our hearts for all people, regardless of whether they are attacking or being attacked. We can swear from the bottom of our hearts that we will never, ever visit this terror upon the rest of the world ever again. We can swear to break the cycle by using our incredible might not for war and control, but for peaceful cooperation and world service.
So this is my resolution to the conflicted feelings I've been having about this monument and this coming anniversary. Yes, let's mourn and memorialize the passing of three thousand people on that day of terror. However, rather than letting our pain be turned into a tool for further violence and vengance, let's sink deeply into it and turn it into a foundation for justice, peace, and love.
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