We met at a local restaurant in New York City. There were only about 2 dozen of us, but we were strong. We met to serve ourselves. We met to re-affirm our commitment to peace and justice, and we met to let each other know that the struggle continues, the effort goes on, and the hope does not die.
At some point, when we had tired of singing songs of freedom and justice, many born in the peace struggles at the time of the Vietnam war, Ron read this poem to us, for us, and for all who continue to carry the candle that lights the way to more peaceful tomorrows.
Thanks Ron.
War and the Human Condition
by Ron Galluccio
The
ugliest stain upon the human condition is without fear of contradiction, war.
It incorporates the absolute basest of motivations; it inspires the exaltation
of assassination and the demand of tolerant acceptance as those we love or
might have loved are destroyed.
War
is comprised of failure. The guns and the bombs, the rockets and the warships, the
sticks and the stones are all symbols of human failure which becomes more and
more evident as the casualties roll in.
Casualties!
Shhhh!
Don’t mention that word, not even in a
whisper, because the first casualty of war is The Truth.
Why
do we fight these wars, where do they rise up from? Who was it that created the
madness that we now not only accept, but have collectively agreed to take for
granted!
Old
men dream up wars, damn-it!
Where
then are the philosophers? Where are the humane spirits who are gifted enough
to assume the responsibility of caring for and nurturing the fragile gift of
life.
Old
men dream up wars, damn-it! They dream them up for young men to fight, and they
are so terribly old that they have become trenchant and resolute in their
conviction that young men must die. They
are Old from the time of Moses and the Pharaoh Ramesses, old from the days of
the Peloponnesian War, old from the decay of the first great civilizations as
they expanded and enslaved and forced their will and their philosophy erringly
upon as much of humanity as they could conquer.
And
as they reached out with their horrible tentacles of de-construction, imposing
their culture and all its parameters because, their way was better, they became
vulnerable and suddenly less altruistic, as if they ever were altruistic. Resultantly,
their employed methods became more vicious. But hey! It wasn’t really their
fault, but whose fault was it?
Old
men dream up wars, damn-it!
Where
are the poets? Where are the souls who can actually distill the essence of the
human experience? If they appear, shall
they be incited to take up arms?
Well
why not? It’s just another laughable and in-excusable contradiction to the nature of things
and these things happen all the time making mortal conflict all so bloody acceptable.
War
is much too grave a matter to entrust to Military Men. It’s horrible finality
too dubious to receive approval from clerics. Well, used to be, not any more.
Now these clerics mark it indelibly with their seal of approval because they
were told by God, who of course speaks to them directly, that giving their
approval was the thing to do; that genocide was the new enlightenment, and
Fanatical Imams the new avatars.
They
who endorse murder of any kind would undermine the mysticism and sanctity of
birth, holding life cheap and resultantly no longer dear and precious. That
process then makes it easier to kill; making justifiable the act of ending a
life. Yet when we hear this some of us are shocked. Which begs the question,
why?
We
have a story about a time when there were only four people on the entire planet,
and it teaches us that people were already in the practice of telling lies, and
of betrayal, of deceit and even murder, so why are we surprised now, when we
the people number in the billions?
Deciding
upon war is a delicate matter. It is ruthless and at the same time demanding of
artful finesse. After all, we are assured that we have not gone to war for
conquest, or for exploitation!! We go to
war with the expressed effort of providing relief for an oppressed people. It
is only because of our “pure and good
intentions” that Providence provides us with an overruling of our original,
selfless intensions. Providence you see provides us with the spoils. Can I get
an Alleluia!
Religious
fervor like Patriotism deliberately and with folly aforethought subordinates
the interests of a whole civilization to the interests of a very small part of
that society. Usually, the forces behind these kinds of actions are fierce,
pitiless, and blind as a stone. They are, however, like the road to hell, paved
with good intentions. I ask you, “Can anything be more stupid than a man who
believes he has the right, even the duty to kill me because I live on the other
side of some river?
Where
then are the Philosophers?
Where
are the poets?
When
will they rise up and take charge?
When
will they define the nature of the problem of war?
War
breeds Chaos, but its essence is not chaotic!
Our
problem isn’t that people run amuck and are in general disobedient, but rather
that people are obedient
Obedient
all over the world
Obedient
in the face of poverty and starvation,
Obedient
in the face of stupidity, and cruelty,
Obedient
in the face of war.
Our problem is that people are obedient while
the jails are full of petty thieves, and all the while the great, grand thieves
are running the countries and declaring the wars!
These
are the old men, damn-it! These are the annihilators, the destroyers of young
men who should, who must face accountability.
Call
out now, all of you. Call up the poets and the philosophers and as you call
them, can I please, please, can I get an amen!
Huda, in the cast, will lose her arm if she cannot get treatment soon. (Photo: N. Latif)