I woke up Thursday morning to the news of a new terror threat. No, it wasn’t Grams threatening to make me ride to work with her on her bike; it was a real threat this time. To say that I don’t understand this stuff would be an understatement.
I have a myriad of questions, but three immediately come to mind:
First, why are people who plan to blow up themselves and other people called “martyrs”? A martyr is someone who isn’t pro-active in bringing about his or her death. A martyr is persecuted by others. A martyr doesn’t kill innocent strangers.
Second, why did George W. Bush refer the people behind this plot as, “Islamic-Fascists”? Haven’t these people just hijacked Islam for a twisted psycho plot? They’ve used the Muslim faith as cover to commit acts that coulldn't have been what the Prophet meant.
Third, what makes them 'Fascists'? Is that just a convenient way to link them somehow with Hitler and Mussolini and the Axis powers of World War II? Is it to make George W. Bush seem more FDR-like? Can we not rise above the political machinations, or is that all that our solons have left in their bag of tricks?
Aside from finding ways to identify the un-identifiable, we find ourselves, once again, trying to find logic in something that is illogical to us. I wish I could understand how someone would come to the point where he/she wants to kill for his/her cause. There have always been people who were willing to do this. Each generation gives them another name. At the turn of the last century, they were called anarchists. At the turn of this century, we called them terrorists.
But whether we call them anarchists, terrorists, madmen, or fools; they are out there and they want to kill people that they don’t even know. They want to kill people because of an accident of birth. Were you born in an industrialized, secular nation of the west? Then, you are their target. You have a bull’s eye on your back. Were you born a Shi’a in an artificial nation called Iraq? Were you born a Sunni in that same country? Were you born a black African in Darfur? Were you born a Tutsi in Uganda? Were you born in Cambodia? Then, you know what it’s like to have a bull’s eye on your back.
It’s impossible to make logic of any of this. It’s like trying to understand the mind of a serial killer. You’ll never bridge that gap. Nor do you want to. Frankly, I don’t want to have empathy for someone who kills with premeditation. I just want them to go somewhere where they can’t hurt anyone. But, they won’t. Hate can grow more intense than any other emotion we're able to muster. Can we laugh with the same intensity? Can we love with the same intensity? Can love or laughter consume us for as long a time as hatred? Why, of all the emotions, are we willing to nurse hatred at our bosoms like a beloved child rather reject it like the snake that it is?
I know that you don’t want to sit there shaking in your boots ‘til the end of your days. So, here’s something for you to do. Keep thinking, “there’s no job too small! I can do something right here, right now, that will change the world in a positive way!” Don’t just sit there! Make the world a better place than how you found it.
A dopo e Moochas Smoochas,
Please give what you can to Médecins sans Frontières (Doctors without Borders).
And, of course
平和 に 働 き
(hewa ni hataraki: work for peace)
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