Example for the nations
by
Jack Bradigan Spula
Just
a year ago, while the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and the wrecked Flight
93 were still burning, I used an Emily Dickinson poem, “After great pain,” in a
reactive, reflective essay.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The poem’s insistence on “a formal
feeling” — pure shock with heightened sensation — helped me bridge the pain
of the moment.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Today my mind goes to a poem by
Dickinson’s contemporary, Walt Whitman.
“This
Compost,” one of Whitman’s best, begins with the poet in an uneasy state.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “Something startles me where I
thought I was safest,” he says. He retreats from his beloved landscapes and
seashore and ponders an existential riddle: How does the Earth transform
“distemper’d corpses” into “sweet things,” the “divine materials” of nature
that are new life itself? Ultimately, he marvels at the mysterious “chemistry.”
Yet while he’s still in a fearful mood, Whitman poses a question that his final
optimism can’t silence. “Is not every continent,” he asks, “work’d over and
over with sour dead?”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Certainly in our time, that’s the
case with every continent but Antarctica — and it’s probably destined to join
the club. But never mind that, we’ve got an immense intercontinental tragedy on
our hands, and it’s getting worse.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Every day since 9/11/2001, we’ve
been focusing on the domestic death toll. That’s not wrong in itself, since
things that hurt our loved ones carry special weight. And the domestic toll is
stunningly large for something that happened so quickly: More than 3,000 killed
at the World Trade Center and Pentagon, and on the hijacked jetliners. But the
dead were truly international. The US State Department says the casualties
included people from 84 nations besides the US. In a philosophical sense, this
fact underscores the truism that death is the great equalizer.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย So as we recover from what happened
a year ago, we should deplore all the
pain that the crime of 9/11 and its antecedents have caused, without
segregating humanity into deserving and undeserving victims.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย But how do we find our bearings in a
still dizzying time of reaction? And how will we put boundaries around our
national grief so it won’t drive us to compound the damage?
Some ancillary — I almost
said collateral — data might show us a way out of the moral thickets. We have
to take stock of all the deaths on our watch.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Take the data from the US bombing of
Afghanistan over the past year. Estimates of civilian deaths run from just over
1,000 to more than four times that.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย This summer the quite mainstream
United Methodist News Service, quoting a Methodist bishop who’d gone on a
fact-finding mission to Afghanistan, said the total was “at least 2,000… and
that’s considered a low estimate.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย At the high end of the scale,
Professor Marc Herold of the University of New Hampshire has upped his estimate
to 4,000 or more. Herold’s methodology — he gleaned the numbers from a
multitude of international reports — has come under fire. And yes, it’s
possible Herold’s numbers are inflated. But if that’s so, the number of
uncounted, undocumented deaths remains a live question. Aerial bombing is
notoriously messy; it quite literally renders bodies difficult to find, even if there’s a will to find anything. And in this
case, official willpower can be gauged from the fact that an obscure New
England professor of economics and women’s studies has produced the most widely
discussed research on the topic.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย In any case, Afghans were dying at
horrifying rates long before this war came home to us. Between 1979 and 1989,
fighting in Afghanistan between invading Soviet forces and Mujahedeen rebels
left more than one million dead and produced five million refugees. It used to
be said that US-CIA activities in support of the rebels began months after the
Soviet invasion. That sort of intervention would have been bad enough. But now
it’s known that the Carter Administration primed the pump with covert
activities before the Soviets went in.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Well before 1979, the US was helping
things in the wider region get out of hand. In 1953, the CIA helped depose
Iran’s premier, Mohammed Mossadegh, who oddly had been Time magazine’s 1951 “Man of the Year.” (Mossadegh, whom Time actually loathed, was much admired
in nations then emerging from colonialism. His fatal error was to assert domestic
control over Iranian oil production.) After Mossadegh came the Shah of Iran, a
US aid recipient who through his SAVAK (a CIA clone) and other agencies
tortured, killed, and oppressed great numbers. It’s estimated SAVAK and the
Iranian military killed 12,000 to 15,000 Iranians just in 1978, the year before
revolutionaries loyal to the Ayatollah Khomeini took over.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Things were grim then in Iraq, too,
with the US complicit in large-scale killings. For example, near the end of the
1980-1988 Iran-Iraq War, the US gave Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein a
billion-dollar loan and provided tactical advice. The help came even after
Saddam gassed thousands of Iraqi Kurds.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Overall, the Iran-Iraq War claimed
more than 800,000 lives. But strangely, one incident from the war hasn’t been
getting much play. In 1987, Iraqi aircraft hit the Navy warship USS Stark with two missiles; the
resulting fires killed 37 sailors on board. But the US didn’t make it a
“Remember the Maine” kind of thing. At the time, the US objective was to take
down Iran, not to discommode the Iraqis.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย A few short years later, the
objective changed. President Bush the First launched a war against Iraq to end
the latter’s illegal occupation of Kuwait. When the dust settled, it was
thought 100,000 Iraqi soldiers were dead. Baghdad reported 35,000 civilian
deaths on top of that. Both figures were later revised downward. But the dying
had only started. US and allied forces had bombed the country’s infrastructure
to pieces, setting the conditions for hundreds of thousands of subsequent
civilian deaths from malnutrition and disease. And ongoing economic sanctions
take the toll ever higher.
So, just
looking at this one region post-World War II, the death toll approaches two million.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Remember, this is counting only
Iran, Iraq, and Afghanistan, and not counting Lebanon, Israel/Palestine, Turkey (large death tolls among Turkish
Kurds), Pakistan, Kashmir, and India, not to mention Southeast Asia, large
parts of Africa, and Indonesia (the world’s largest Muslim nation, where in
1965 a US-backed dictator liquidated perhaps a million people).
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The US doesn’t have anything like a
majority responsibility in most of these “theaters,” of course. The world is
full of wrongdoers — I almost said “evildoers” — including many eager to
ride on imperial coattails. But a nation that imagines itself a peacemaker
should have no complicity in such crimes.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Those lost on 9/11 are small in
number by the standards of modern warfare — but starting with the number one,
every life is precious. Infinitely precious.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย In “This Compost,” as elsewhere, old
Walt Whitman watched the infinite do its dance of healing: “Now I am terrified
at the Earth! it is that calm and patient, / It grows such sweet things out of
such corruptions, / It turns harmless and stainless on its axis…”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย That’s the kind of world people of
good will crave: an example for the nations, you might say.
Caption:
Clinical social worker and councilor Nanette Robinson-Vine: “We’re [not] going
to get closure any time soon.”
The long, hard road to healing
by
Chris Busby
As
with any individual affected by an act of violence, Americans as a whole are
going through a healing process in the wake of the September 11 tragedy that
includes feelings of shock, sadness, and anger. Meanwhile, the government has
responded to the attacks in part by launching its own attacks against real or
perceived terrorists worldwide. That violent response has, in turn, created
other tragedies — such as the deaths of US soldiers in Afghanistan and
innocent civilians caught in the crossfire in that chaotic country.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย The anxiety people felt in the
immediate wake of 9/11 has since taken on new dimensions. There’s suspicion and
paranoia about the possibility of another attack. There are fears the
government is eroding our civil liberties. And the growing possibility of a
full-scale war with Iraq frightens battle-hardened generals and peaceniks
alike.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Professionals who work with people
affected by violence see parallels between the way the nation has responded to
the tragedy and the way individuals react to violence perpetrated on a smaller,
more personal scale. Just as anger and feelings of vengeance can torment
someone whose spouse has been murdered in a robbery, they say the government’s
militaristic response to 9/11 can make it harder for all Americans to come to
terms with the tragedy.
“I don’t
believe revenge helps the healing process,” says Nanette Robinson-Vine, a
clinical social worker and councilor in Rochester. “Revenge is a process of
getting someone else to feel as badly as you do. It sounds different to me from
encouraging someone to heal so they can stand up for themselves, so they can
confront someone who’s violated them.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย For victims of violence, “advocacy
is necessary, support is necessary, having a place to be heard is necessary,
but revenge isn’t necessary,” she says.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย While the drums of war grow louder,
Robinson-Vine says that “politically, there are people out there who believe
differently and are mourning the track our country’s taking and grieving.
They’re struggling with feelings of identification, support, and love for the
victims who are getting hurt in the process.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “If we’re militaristic, I wonder
about the other feelings that come up for people,” she continues, “the sense of
responsibility, the sense of guilt that may not be on surface, but may be in
there somewhere.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย After all, says Robinson-Vine, when
it comes to suffering from violence, “even if it’s the other guy, we’ve got
another victim.”
William
Fleeman is the founder and CEO of Pathways to Peace, Inc., a non-profit
organization based in Cassadega, New York, that helps “people who use anger as
a way to change feelings of powerlessness into feelings of power,” he says.
“Certainly, an occurrence like 9/11 creates feelings of powerlessness in
people,” Fleeman continues. “They feel violated, hurt, frustrated that they
can’t do anything. People typically use anger to cope with those feelings.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย In the wake of a violent event, “the
first stage is denial, followed by anger, followed by bargaining — ‘If we’d
just done this, then that wouldn’t have happened’ — followed finally by
acceptance,” Fleeman says.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย But Pathways to Peace also advocates
one more step: forgiveness. “Through that process of acceptance, we believe
that unless the act of forgiveness is also made, [negative feelings] can’t be
resolved,” he says.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Though forgiveness “plays a big, big
part” in the healing process, Fleeman acknowledges that it’s the hardest stage
to reach. In the organization’s handbook, forgiveness is the subject of the
last of 16 chapters. “It’s something people are least likely to do, or least
capable of doing, when dealing with issues of anger and rage,” he says.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Even if someone is finally able to
find forgiveness, Fleeman says it’s important not to forget. Speaking
personally — Pathways to Peace is apolitical — Fleeman says “we need to
forgive, but if we forget, we can’t learn from it.” The events of last
September 11 “were horrendous,” he says, “but at same time, it’s an enormous
lesson for humanity and there’s the potential for incredible growth.”
How long will
it take us
as a nation to progress from anger to forgiveness after the September 11
attacks? “That’s a tough question,” Fleeman says. “And it’d be even tougher if
I lived in Manhattan, and even tougher if I lost someone I personally knew in
that disaster.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “Some people will never, ever,
forgive — period,” he continues. “Some people will hold onto their feelings
of hate, anger, and rage over that instance because it makes them feel
powerful. And there are those people who are chronically angry and get off on
it.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย In the wake of personal tragedies,
Fleeman says finding acceptance and forgiveness is generally a
two-to-three-year process. But given the political nature of this public
tragedy, he says it may be “a lot longer” than that before Americans come to
terms with the event.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Based on her work with individual
clients since the tragedy, Robinson-Vine says “people are at different levels
of healing, depending how directly impacted they were, what they had in terms
of support systems, and how open they were in talking about it.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย “As a culture, there are a number of
things happening to facilitate the healing,” she continues. “It’s being talked
about, the anniversary is being honored, it’s in the media.”
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย Robinson-Vine believes “we’re in the
process” of finding acceptance, but says “I don’t think we’re done, and the
threat continues, so it’s not like we’re going to get closure any time soon.”
This article appears in Sep 11-17, 2002.
