Spin Cycle

Today, in honor of Veterans Day, President Bush attended what the Associated Press calls a “tearful ceremony” for four dead Texan soldiers who died in the military conflict in Iraq.

"In their sorrow, these families need to know — and families all across our nation of the fallen — need to know that your loved ones served a cause that is good and just and noble," Bush said. "And as their commander in chief, I make you this promise: Their sacrifice will not be in vain."

A cause that good and just and noble? How is this war good? Good for whom? Where is the justice? War is never noble — war is death and pain and misery. How can a promise be made that our young people, beautiful people my age, will not have died in vain? Any death for an unjust cause is a death in vain.

Christ taught his followers to love our neighbors as ourselves, and even to pray for our enemies. And as a popular bumper sticker says, “When Jesus said ‘Love your enemies,’ I think he meant ‘Don’t kill them.’” What does your faith tell you, Mr. Bush, about this? For God’s sake, how do you sleep at night?

If soldiers are lucky enough to survive the actual, fighting, how do you ignore them once they return? Where is the prompt, effective, federally supported medical care to patch them back up, to provide mental healthcare so that veterans might survive the emotional damage incurred from your war? There are more than a quarter million Vietnam War vets with stress disorders, and more than 200,000 Gulf War vets who suffer Gulf War syndrome. How many more soldiers will be added to these numbers? How is this “supporting the troops”? Where is the just and noble cause then?

Where are your tears, President Bush, for the people you, as “the decider,” have killed in Iraq and Afghanistan? Where are your tears for the Iraqi and Afghan survivors, the parents, siblings, cousins, and friends who grieve the loss of their loved ones and who must struggle daily to get even the basic necessities for life because of you? Where are your tears for the “enemy combatants” who have been tortured and humiliated, with your consent? Your brief words at a ceremony don’t ease the anguish felt by thousands of people around the world.

I propose a new kind of Veterans Day. What if we declared instead a moratorium on war? I can’t think of a better way to honor vets.



Study War No More
I’m going to lay down my sword and shield
Down by the riverside
Down by the riverside
Down by the riverside
Going to lay down my sword and shield
Down by the riverside
Ain’t going to study war no more

Ain’t going to study war no more
Ain’t going to study war no more
Ain’t going to study war no more
Ain’t going to study war no more
Ain’t going to study war no more
Ain’t going to study war no more

I’m going to put on my long white robe
Down by the riverside
Down by the riverside

Down by the riverside
I’m going to put on my long white robe
Down by the riverside
Ain’t going to study war no more
I’m going to talk with the Prince of Peace…

*This post is a draft of an op-ed piece I am submitting for class.*


Since Sunday, the nation’s attention has been focused on the wildfires encroaching upon Southern California. More than a quarter of a million acres have burned, and almost a million residents have evacuated. Today, President Bush sent a message to let residents of Southern California know that “Americans all across this land care deeply about them. We're concerned about their safety. We're concerned about their property."

Yesterday, Bush declared a federal emergency for seven California counties, and has already made plans to visit the area Thursday. Washington has also contributed 32 firefighting crews and dozens of fire engines from the Agriculture Department, in addition to 25,000 cots and 280,000 bottles of water. More than 100 workers from t he Federal Emergency Management Agency are in San Diego County alone.

The Bush administration’s response to natural disaster shows a marked change from its reaction to Hurricane Katrina two years ago. In comparison to the wildfires’ current death toll of fewer than 10, more than 1,800 people died as a result of the hurricane and its aftereffects.

After Katrina, relief personnel didn’t reach the disaster’s epicenter, the Lower Ninth Ward of New Orleans, until days afterward. Broken levees in New Orleans led to flooding in most of the city and in surrounding parishes for weeks. Survivors struggled to find food and water. Those survivors who found shelter in New Orleans’ Superdome were subject to unsanitary conditions, insufficient food and medications and possibly even sexual assault.

Today, areas hit by Katrina still have not recovered. One-third of New Orleans’ population has not yet returned to the area, either because they have begun new lives elsewhere, or because they cannot afford to return. Schools, homes and businesses have not yet been rebuilt, leading to dying neighborhoods and communities, a concern exacerbated by unemployment rates.

Survivors who have turned to FEMA for assistance are still living in trailers, two years later. In contrast, Homeland Security Secretary Michael Chertoff has promised that housing authorities will work with displaced California residents to provide housing—there will be no Hurricane Katrina-style trailers for wildfire evacuees.

What message does this lack of aid in for Katrina victims, especially in light of the rapid response to California wildfires, send to the hurricane survivors? Bush might as well say, “Americans don’t care about you. We don’t care about your safety, and we certainly don’t care about your property or your livelihood.” In his silence and with his inaction for further support for those still affected by Hurricane Katrina, Bush may as well shout that message on national television.

What has prompted such a strong response to the wildfires? President Bush didn’t seem nearly as concerned about the people affected by Katrina, and he certainly didn’t make many proactive efforts before the hurricane destroyed everything in its wake. In fact, he barely surveyed the area from the air days after the fact, on his way back to Washington after a vacation at his ranch.

Part of it has to do with the public outcry after Katrina; the Bush administration and FEMA were widely criticized for their sluggish, inadequate responses to the situation. But I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something more to it. California places eleventh in the nation in terms of median household income; Louisiana, Mississippi and Alabama all rank within the poorest five states. The seven counties declared in a state of emergency all have, at most, one-third of the African-American populations of the states hit by Katrina.

Bush claims he is a Christian, but he seems to have forgotten Christ’s message to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. At the very least, Bush should care for his poor, predominately African-American neighbors in the Gulf Coast as much as he cares for his rich, mostly white neighbors in Southern California. Maybe on his way home from California, Bush should stop by Louisiana and remind himself of that fact.

I recently traveled to my hometown in Ohio for my grandmother’s 70th birthday. On the day of the party for her, I started to head out the door, but ran back inside to change my clothes. Not because I wanted to dress up for the event, but because I was wearing a t-shirt with the words “No War” in letters four inches tall.

What’s so bad about that? I personally cannot support war. We see daily evidence that our military actions in Iraq are not creating a stable, sustainable environment, either in Iraq or in the United States. Escalating violence since the American invasion of Iraq has led to astronomical numbers of casualties: more than 3,800 U.S. soldiers have died, and estimates of the number of Iraqi dead range as high as 655,000.

Given these and the multitudes of other reasons why I oppose war, why did I choose to not wear a shirt that advocates peace? The answer is simple, and it is shameful: I didn’t want to deal with my family’s reaction. They view my allegiance to peace as an act of sedition; in their minds, I am being disloyal to the troops and to my country. I don’t buy a word of what they would say (and have said), but I just didn’t want to hear it. I believe in my views, and I want to stand by them, but I was afraid to be the only voice standing alone against a barrage of incriminations.

How many times are we silent when we shouldn’t be? How often do we keep still when we are called to action, to care for others, to do what we can to help another?

When God called Moses to speak up for the enslaved Israelites, to demand that they be released from their bondage, Moses replied, “I have never been eloquent… I am slow of speech and slow of tongue." God, in response, told Moses to go forward and trust that the words would come.

As we search for the words we know we must speak, we should remember the words God told Moses: “Now go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you are to speak."