“Hitler may have lost the war on the battlefield, but he ended up winning something too,” says Marek Halter, “because man in the twentieth century created the concentration camp and revived torture and taught his fellow men that it is possible to close their eyes to the misfortunes of others.”
Perhaps he is right: There are abandoned children, massacred civilians, innocent people imprisoned, lonely old people, drunks in the gutter, madmen in power.
But perhaps he isn’t right at all, for there are also Warriors of the Light.
And Warriors of the Light never accept what is unacceptable.
Excerpt from Warrior of the Light: A Manual by Paulo Coelho, Translated from the Portuguese by Margaret Jull Costa, HarperOne, New York, USA, 2003, p. 70.
PAULO COELHO, born in Rio de Janeiro in 1947, is a Brazilian lyricist and novelist, best known for his novel, The Alchemist (1988). His work has been published in more than 170 countries and translated into eighty languages. His books have had a life-enchanting impact on millions of people worldwide.
Frequent killing of civilians is inherent in the types of wars that the United States has waged in this century. Despite all the hype about precision weaponry, even its top-rated technologies are fallible. What’s more, they operate in flawed—and sometimes highly dysfunctional—contexts. Whether launching attacks from distant positions or directly deployed, American forces are far removed from the societies they seek to affect. Key dynamics include scant knowledge of language, ignorance of cultures, and unawareness of such matters as manipulation due to local rivalries.
When U.S. officials say that civilian deaths are merely accidental outcomes of the war effort, they don’t mention that such deaths are not only predictable—they’re also virtually inevitable as results of policy priorities. Presumptions of acceptability are hot-wired into the war machine. The lives taken, injuries inflicted, traumas caused, environmental devastation wrought, social decimation imposed—all scarcely rank as even secondary importance to the power centers in Washington.
Norman Solomon, War Made Invisible: How America Hides the Human Toll of Its Military Machine, The New Press, New York, USA, 2023, pp. 53-54.
NORMAN SOLOMON is an American journalist, media critic, author, and activist. He is the co-founder of the online organization RootsAction.org and executive director of the Institute for Public Accuracy, a consortium of policy researchers and analysts. His books include War Made Easy: How Presidents and Pundits Keep Spinning Us to Death (2006) and Made Love, Got War: Close Encounters with America’s Warfare State (2008). He lives in the San Francisco area in California.
Civility tempers and elevates the interactions between citizens, whether or not those citizens are public leaders. Civility begins with recognizing our shared humanity. It starts with seeing that we are more alike than unlike, and viewing our difference in light of our likeness. It starts in small ways, sowing seeds of the friendship and trust that ensure our civitas survives.
Deliberative democracy depends on the premise that people of goodwill can negotiate differences and work together in a productive way through rational—and civil—debate. Civility builds an active willingness to listen to others, to consider their point of view alongside our own, and to evaluate varying conceptions of “the good.” The civil citizen accepts that others have genuinely held moral positions, and that reasonable minds can disagree. These traits are equally essential for all positions along the political spectrum, and for our democracy, public leaders, and citizens alike.
~ Alexandra Hudson, The Soul of Civility: Timeless Principles to Heal Society and Ourselves, St. Martin’s Publishing Group, New York, USA, 2023, p. 257.
ALEXANDRA HUDSON is a writer, storyteller, and the founder of Civic Renaissance, a publication and intellectual community dedicated to reviving the wisdom of the past to help us lead richer lives in the present. She was named a 2019 Novak Journalism Fellow, and she contributes to Fox News, CBS News, The Wall Street Journal, USA Today, Time magazine, Politico magazine, and Newsweek. Her TV series, Storytelling and the Human Condition, was produced with The Great Courses and is available for streaming on Wondrium and Audible. Hudson earned a master’s degree in public policy at the London School of Economics as a Rotary Scholar. An adjunct professor at the Indiana University Lilly Family School of Philanthropy, she lives in Indianapolis with her husband and children.
To understand why Donald Trump became the forty-fifth president of the United States, we should also pay less attention to his personal qualities and maneuvers and more to the deep social forces that propelled him to the top. Trump was like a small boat caught on the crest of a mighty tidal wave. The two most important social forces that gave us the Trump presidency—and pushed America to the brink of state breakdown—are elite overproduction and popular immiseration….
[First, by 2016] a large proportion of Americans who felt left behind voted for an unlikely candidate—a billionaire. For many of them, this was not so much an endorsement of Trump as an expression of their discontent, shading into rage, against the ruling class.
Second, by 2016, the elite overproduction game had reached a bifurcation point where the rules of conduct in political campaigns had been tossed to the wind.
Excerpt from End Times: Elites, Counter-Elites, and the Path of Political Disintegration by Peter Turchin, Penguin Random House, New York, USA, 2023 (pp. 13-14).
Footnotes
Elite Overproduction occurs when the number of elites among the top One Percent far exceeds the number of available power positions.
Popular Immiseration occurs when workers face years of wage stagnation and decline while the rich get richer. In the USA, “deaths of despair” from suicide, alcoholism, and drug overdose spiked among the noncollege-educated during the period 2000 to 2016.
Peter Turchin is a project leader at the Complexity Science Hub Vienna, a research associate at the University of Oxford, and an emeritus professor at the University of Connecticut. Trained as a theoretical biologist, he is now working in the field of historical social science that he and his colleagues call cliodynamics. Currently, his main research effort is directed at coordinating CrisisDB, a massive historical database of societies sliding into crisis—and then emerging from it. His books include Ultrasociety (2016) and Ages of Discord (2016).
Two peoples Israelis & Palestinians Jews & Arabs Oppressor & Oppressed Trapped in an unending cycle of armed struggle Seventy-five years of violent co-existence over a piece of Earth they both call Home.
An eye for an eye The violence of men unleashed on the largest open-air prison in the world Thousands of women and children slaughtered Entire generations of families buried beneath the rubble No peace for either side until the other is exterminated.
“Ceasefire Now!” “Not in Our Name!” demand members of the Jewish Voice for Peace during sit-in protest at New York City’s Grand Central Station “Never again for anyone!” one sign read.
“No genocide in our name!” “Ceasefire Now!” demand members of the IfNotNow Movement American Jews for equality & justice A thriving future for all Palestinians & Israelis.
In Gaza, buried deep beneath the rubble, a baby cries.
This is the sixth and final part of my series of reflections on the “c-o-s-m-o-s remedy” proposed in opposition to the “ideology of e-s-c-a-p-e” by Jem Bendell in Deep Adaptation: Navigating the Realities of Climate Chaos (UK/USA 2021).
In contrast to the habit of Exceptionalism in e-s-c-a-p-e ideology, which means assuming ‘I am annoyed in this world because much about it upsets me and so I believe I’m better and/or needed…,’ Bendell proposes that Solidarity involves acting from the part of you that knows ‘our common sadness and frustration arise from our mutual love for all life and motivate us towards fairness, justice and healing’ (p. 147).
Solidarity is defined as unity (as a group or class) that produces or is based on community of interests, objectives, and standards (Merriam-Webster Dictionary). As he so often does, Bendell calls us to look at the essence of what drives our shared sense of solidarity as a group or class.
For some unknown reason, I do not use the word ‘solidarity.’ Yet, I’m very familiar with the word since my childhood growing up in then British Guiana during the 1950s and 1960s. Whenever I hear the word, I immediately recall the song “Solidarity Forever” that played every day on our local radio stations. Though I don’t remember the verses, I can still sing the chorus:
Solidarity forever! Solidarity forever! Solidarity forever! For the Union makes us strong!
I later learned that it was the anthem of the workers’ unions, mainly the agricultural workers, who were fighting for better wages, workplace safety, and living conditions. Could it be that I associate the word with its negative images of danger to one’s safety?
In those early days of my youth, the managers and owners of the sugar plantations and factories across the colony were hostile towards striking workers. They were known to hire thugs to terrorize the workers on the picket line. To join picket lines in a show of solidarity came with the risk of losing one’s job, being beaten, teargassed, or even killed. Such risks did not change when we became an independent nation in May 1966.
On Saturday morning, July 14, 1979, after celebrating Mass and having his breakfast, Father Bernard Darke SJ spent the morning marking examination papers at the Catholic high school where he taught the Scriptures and Mathematics. As Scouts Master, the British Jesuit priest also made plans with some of the scouts for their annual camp. At the request of the Editor of the Catholic Standard newspapers, he had his cameras with him to take photos of a political demonstration to be held outside the Magistrates’ Court.
During a period of civil rebellion against the dictatorship government, leading members of the opposition party Working People’s Alliance (WPA) had been arrested and charged with burning down the building housing the Ministry of National Development. As peaceful demonstrators marched along the street heading towards the court, Father Darke stood on the sidelines, in front of the school building, taking photographs.
The demonstrators were about 65 feet (20 meters) away from him when thugs, armed with wooden staves, cutlasses, and knives, charged into the picket line. The crowd scattered in all directions. Father Darke captured the confusion with his camera. Across the two-lane roadway, three men attacked the Assistant Editor of the Catholic Standard newspapers, who was covering the story. After receiving a blow to the head, the Assistant Editor fell to the ground, bleeding. In taking photos of the attack, Father Darke became the next target. He tried fleeing to safety, but the two cameras slung around his neck slowed him down. After beating him to the ground with wooden staves, one of the three assailants stabbed him in the back with an old bayonet. That evening, shortly after 6:00 p.m., he died in hospital from a ruptured lung.
Serving in the Guyana Mission since 1960, Father Bernard Darke SJ (1925-1979) was a quiet man who did not seek attention. He served in the Royal Navy during World War II and joined the Jesuit Order in 1946. His killing in broad daylight shook us all in the Catholic community.
Working for change in unjust social, economic, and political systems involves taking life-changing risks. Solidarity can come with a steep price. I don’t join picket lines or take part in mass public demonstrations. I lack such courage. I prefer to contribute in quiet ways: speaking out, making posters and banners, spreading awareness, listening to and engaging with others, and changing my behavior.
Solidarity in our fight to save Earth’s pollinators and other endangered species! Solidarity in our fight for clean air and clean water! Solidarity in our fight to end humanity’s dependence on fossil fuels! Solidarity makes us strong!
Flooding following Tropical Storm Hilary – Death Valley National Park – California/USA – August 2023 Photo Credit: USA National Park Service (NPS/ N. Bernard)
This is the fifth in my six-part series of reflections on the “c-o-s-m-o-s remedy” proposed in opposition to the “ideology of e-s-c-a-p-e” by Jem Bendell in Deep Adaptation: Navigating the Realities of Climate Chaos (UK/USA 2021).
In contrast to the habit of Progress in e-s-c-a-p-e ideology, which involves thinking and feeling that ‘the future must contain a legacy from me, or make sense to me now, because if not, then when I die, I would die even more…,’ Bendell proposes that Oneness awareness involves sensing ‘what is important is how I live more lovingly right here and now, without needing to believe that I matter or am improving’ (pp.146-147).
Oneness is defined as the quality or state or fact of being one: such as singleness, integrity/wholeness, harmony, identity, and unity/union (Merriam-Webster Dictionary). The oneness that Bendell refers to is much deeper in meaning: that feeling of interconnectedness that expands our awareness of the inherent goodness of all beings. We feel part of something greater. We see beauty everywhere, in everyone, and everything.
This is the fourth in my series of reflections on the “c-o-s-m-o-s remedy” proposed in opposition to the “ideology of e-s-c-a-p-e” by Jem Bendell in Deep Adaptation: Navigating the Realities of Climate Chaos (UK/USA 2021).
In contrast to the habit of Autonomy in e-s-c-a-p-e ideology, which involves thinking and feeling ‘I must be completely separate in my mind and being, because otherwise I would not exist…,’ Bendell proposes that Mutuality involves remembering ‘as this world has produced me and societies have shaped me, I will question all my understandings and ways of relating with others’ (p.146).
Mutuality is defined as a positive, interactive relationship between two or more individuals. There’s a sense of giving and receiving in a reciprocal way. It also involves acknowledging the sameness or equality in the other person, while appreciating the difference in the other’s experience. As Bendell notes, mutuality calls us to understand the other.
In his article “The Importance of Mutuality,” American psychotherapist Dr. Jason B. Fischer notes: “To cultivate mutuality in a relationship, we have two main choices. We can either transform the way another person feels about us (by relating to them in a new way) or we can transform the way we feel about them.”
Reflecting on my relationships over the years, including my failed marriage, I have not done so well when it comes to mutuality of shared feelings and wants. Only six relationships fall into that special category. Since I have no control over the way others feel or think of me, I worked at understanding the other’s position and needs. In the past, such relationships were only successful for as long as I was willing to give freely under the terms of the individual or group.
While relationships of mutuality are not common in my life, I have found other ways to collaborate with others who share mutual interests and goals. I struggle to understand the lack of respect, anger, hate, and violence towards the “other.” I struggle to understand the beliefs and stance of those who deny mounting evidence that humanity is facing a global climate and ecological existential crises.
Is understanding the “other” enough to narrow the divide?
Over twelve years ago—during a tough time juggling our family budget, following the 2007-2008 Global Financial Crisis—an angel entered my life. Angeletta (fictitious name), a neighbor’s eighteen-month-old daughter, came running towards me across the lawn with arms outstretched like a swan in flight. Without thinking, I dropped to my knees and held her to my heart, now light as a butterfly.
From a distance, Angeletta’s mother looked on without a word. During the month that followed, my little angel remained housebound. What had I done wrong? Had I overstepped my boundaries by hugging her child? Was the white American mother racist?
Distressed, I called my white American friend for counsel. “Take it easy,” my friend told me. “Some mothers are very possessive, especially with their first child.”
With respect for her mother’s stance, I never again hugged my darling Angeletta. From behind their closed grill door, she would call out to me by name every time she saw me. Over time, with mutual understanding and shared interests, her mother and I became friends. Angeletta became my gardening companion. I was saddened when they moved out-of-state.
Potential Record High Temperatures Across the South & Southeast – United States – June 2023 Source Map: Fox Weather
This is the third in my series of reflections on the “c-o-s-m-o-s remedy” proposed in opposition to the “ideology of e-s-c-a-p-e” by Jem Bendell in Deep Adaptation: Navigating the Realities of Climate Chaos (UK/USA 2021).
In contrast to the habit of Control in e-s-c-a-p-e ideology, which involves thinking ‘I will try to impose on you and everything, including myself, so I feel safer,’ Bendell proposes that Serenity involves the feeling that ‘I appreciate the dignity of you, myself and all life, however disturbing situations might seem’ (p.146).
Serenity is defined as the state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled. A look at the day’s headlines suggest that we are more generally inclined to feel the very opposite: fear, dread, anguish, and anxiety. Desperate for control over our lives, we often place our faith in powerful men to save us from drowning. In America, we pass laws to restrict the rights of others for control over their bodies.
Since childhood, fear has been a constant companion. Such is the nature of domestic violence. All I could control was fear itself. In high school, I learned the “Serenity Prayer” asking God for the wisdom to know the difference between things I could and could not change, and the courage to change what was within my power to change. I did what I could to improve communication between my parents, with no observable change.
Patti Moore Wilson, a Wednesday’s Child (full of woe), never fails to captivate me with her storytelling. In yet another heartwarming story, she shows us how we connect with each other when our hearts are open to the unexpected.
Wiktionary definition for ‘fly your freak flag”: unconventional or unrestrained behaviour; extreme, nonconformist views. Reportedly originated from song lyrics for If 6 Was 9 (1967) by Jimi Hendrix[1] and was popularized by its use in Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young‘s counterculture anthem Almost Cut My Hair
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I am the quietest, most ordinary person you will ever meet. I listen ten times more than I speak. Unless social etiquette requires it, I only open my mouth when I have something to contribute. I like blending in. I don’t like making waves. I CAN perform in the spotlight (say, in a work context) but it isn’t something I purposely seek out.