On Monday, writing on the topic of David Rohde's seven months as a hostage held by the Taliban, Salon's Glenn Greenwald examined the issue of how America is seen by the Muslim world, noting "the vast gap between how Americans perceive of their actions (mere 'aberrations') and how so much of the rest of the world perceives of it, especially those in the targeted regions."
This is as blunt and honest a post as you're likely to read on the subject. I recommend it to every American who cares about the security and stability of the United States.
To Greenwald's correct assertion that Americans will continue to express surprise that the Muslim world hates us, I humbly offer this opinion:
Glenn Greenwald's post nails the issue perfectly. The Muslim world hates us because we (America) have treated Muslim civilians and prisoners as less than human beings. This is not the first time in our history that we have ignored the suffering of people wronged by the government we elected. But is this the approach to life we want to bequeath to the next generation?
As Greenwald posted these insights, millions of Americans were busy as bees, shopping, talking, debating, sharing opinions--not about torture, but on the subject of Halloween. We're already dizzy as Paris Hilton on a shopping spree, and we're just getting started. Our distractions would be fine, if they were kept in perspective and didn't help us to pretend that the past never happened.
Unfortunately, instead of handling what we ought to handle as decent, civilized, adult citizens we merely wish to assert, time and again, that we are not to blame. To accomplish this, we behave like children--all of us. And we make more and more children, so we can experience life through the eyes of children, shutting out what frightens or disturbs us.
What will you wear for Halloween? We ask the kids in our family this inane question, which would not be so inane if we first asked more important ones. For example:
How will we, as Americans, define ourselves before the world, knowing as we do that our leaders have effectively committed heinous acts of brutality against human beings, many of them not even legally charged with criminal acts?
And before anyone starts listing acts of cruelty committed by others, let me say: Two wrongs do not make anything right. To say we can be evil because evil exists is the most base and disgusting claim a person can make.
An adult nation with a sense of moral responsibility would not blow all of its energy and time debating minutiae online, as we do. An adult and responsible nation would ignore the duplicitous, self-serving warning of GOP leaders who say: If we try a former administration for illegal and immoral acts of the past eight years, we must also try anyone who knew anything about any such acts. We ALL know, in our hearts, that this is BS.
What our nation, left, right, and center, must do--if we are what we say we are, and if we want to be treated with decency by the rest of the world--is to call for a legal examination of Bush and Cheney and Rumsfeld and Rice. How did we become torturers? Through the actions and policies of specific, powerful individuals, that's how. Everybody knows it. They as much as admitted it to mainstream media less than two years ago, when they owned up to high level meetings at which specific types of interrogation were selected and approved for specific prisoners.
We do not govern our nation. But we vote for people who do so. When those people commit crimes, it does not make us criminals--unless we fail to note their criminal acts, and hold them accountable.
Until we face up to this and deal with it, we will continue to be nothing more than children searching for the perfect princess costume for Halloween.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Libraries: A World Beyond Our Doorstep
My parents grew up poor during the Great Depression. They had a child only a year after they had run away and married in a romantic attempt to escape the poverty and ignorance of their hometown communities. By then World War II was underway and my dad joined the Navy. After the war he and my mother raised four kids and took whatever work was available in the small towns to which they had reluctantly returned in need of help from their families. They never had the chance to go to college.
When I was growing up, I think we owned fewer than a dozen books. This was because of poverty and priorities, not an aversion to literature. My parents loved to read. When they realized that I was a writer they were delighted. They read all of the stories I wrote as a child--no matter how gruesome or bizarre--and begged for more. They were my best audience.
My dad drove me to a second hand bookstore, the only one we had ever heard of, miles from where we lived by that time. He would buy himself an Erle Stanley Gardner mystery and wait outside, smoking and reading, while I shopped for as long as I wanted. I would buy a few paperbacks, take them home and read them, then bring them back to trade in for more. My dad always came up with the extra change needed, and never balked.
My mom signed me up at the public library. I spent many of the happiest times of my life there. And I still find sanctuary in the place where books are loved and shared. No matter how chaotic life may be, the public library offers knowledge and peace.
My mom also added to our family's debt by purchasing a new edition of encyclopedias from a door-to-door salesman. My clothes before I started school were all hand-me-downs. Beginning in first grade, my aunt sewed my clothes and what she couldn't provide we bought at Sears. But my mother didn't hesitate for a moment when she had the opportunity to buy those encyclopedias.
"There's a whole world of things to learn, in those books," she said.
Despite the poverty of their early lives, and the many setbacks they had to face over the years, my parents never became mean or bitter when it came to my education. They wanted me to read everything. Any book, no matter how sophisticated, graphic, or downright crazy, had something to show me about the world beyond my doorstep. My parents never censored and they never stopped trying to learn.
That, I think, is the gift that all people can give their children: the chance to learn. But without affordable literature, without public libraries, the opportunity to learn is greatly diminished for people who are not well off.
Let's not make the mistake of assuming that everyone in America can afford to buy books. Let's not allow our legislators to con us into thinking our libraries are not part of the foundation of education.
Every person reading this has access to a computer. Every person reading this has language skills and a desire to learn more about other people. We all have a stake in keeping our libraries in business, and letting our leaders know that we do not accept the easy way out, when it comes to balancing state budgets with education in mind. Our libraries and other sources of affordable literature need our loud and persistent support, so that every child has the opportunity to explore the world beyond their own doorstep.
Please, pass the message on…
When I was growing up, I think we owned fewer than a dozen books. This was because of poverty and priorities, not an aversion to literature. My parents loved to read. When they realized that I was a writer they were delighted. They read all of the stories I wrote as a child--no matter how gruesome or bizarre--and begged for more. They were my best audience.
My dad drove me to a second hand bookstore, the only one we had ever heard of, miles from where we lived by that time. He would buy himself an Erle Stanley Gardner mystery and wait outside, smoking and reading, while I shopped for as long as I wanted. I would buy a few paperbacks, take them home and read them, then bring them back to trade in for more. My dad always came up with the extra change needed, and never balked.
My mom signed me up at the public library. I spent many of the happiest times of my life there. And I still find sanctuary in the place where books are loved and shared. No matter how chaotic life may be, the public library offers knowledge and peace.
My mom also added to our family's debt by purchasing a new edition of encyclopedias from a door-to-door salesman. My clothes before I started school were all hand-me-downs. Beginning in first grade, my aunt sewed my clothes and what she couldn't provide we bought at Sears. But my mother didn't hesitate for a moment when she had the opportunity to buy those encyclopedias.
"There's a whole world of things to learn, in those books," she said.
Despite the poverty of their early lives, and the many setbacks they had to face over the years, my parents never became mean or bitter when it came to my education. They wanted me to read everything. Any book, no matter how sophisticated, graphic, or downright crazy, had something to show me about the world beyond my doorstep. My parents never censored and they never stopped trying to learn.
That, I think, is the gift that all people can give their children: the chance to learn. But without affordable literature, without public libraries, the opportunity to learn is greatly diminished for people who are not well off.
Let's not make the mistake of assuming that everyone in America can afford to buy books. Let's not allow our legislators to con us into thinking our libraries are not part of the foundation of education.
Every person reading this has access to a computer. Every person reading this has language skills and a desire to learn more about other people. We all have a stake in keeping our libraries in business, and letting our leaders know that we do not accept the easy way out, when it comes to balancing state budgets with education in mind. Our libraries and other sources of affordable literature need our loud and persistent support, so that every child has the opportunity to explore the world beyond their own doorstep.
Please, pass the message on…
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