At 1 am on Monday, May 2 in Islamabad Pakistan, it was 10pm in Lusaka Zambia. I was dozing in front of the television. 40 minutes later, I was fast asleep in bed, snuggled under a comforter and surrounded by a mosquito net. It is amazing to think that during such a quiet, peaceful time, a gunfight began and ended, taking with it the life of Osama Bin Ladin.
When I turned on the computer on Monday morning, at first I thought it was a prank. Confirmation of the same news from BBC and the New York Times convinced me to call a friend - and quietly, I felt a kind of fist-pumping satisfaction - the kind you feel when your team wins, when the good guy overcomes some evil. It is the only time in my life where I have felt the killing of another human being was the "right" thing to do, and that makes me feel a bit ashamed of myself.
Later, we turned on the tv, and alternated between BBC and Sky News for the rest of the afternoon. I don't understand the party scenes I saw coming from the US, and I was embarassed by the Sisqo - wannabbee and teenage blonde girl who somebody decided were worth interviewing.
By September 12, it was clear that most Americans wanted retribution for the events that unfolded a few hours earlier. They wanted justice for the victims, and our leaders told us that that would be achieved by hunting down and killing those responsible. In the terrorist deck of cards, the Ace of Spades was always bin Ladin. And after almost 10 years, he is gone. He will no longer haunt our nightmares. Perhaps we feel stronger today than we did two days ago because we now know that those who attack us will, in time, face our justice. A generation ago, we fought the USSR in proxy wars. Promising lives were cut short, and families torn apart, but we never felt the pain of a nuclear attack on our own soil, perhaps because every Soviet leader and citizen knew that such an attack would mean certain retribution. Perhaps that is the message that Al Qaeda received yesterday morning; you can run and you can hide, but you will be found.
On May 3, I woke up to a morning like any other. In Lusaka, there are no parties in the streets, there are no rallies or parades. Nobody is waving flags. There is no increased security presence on our streets, and I am unworried by the family wearing headscarves where I get my coffee. I am no more proud to be an American than I was two days ago. It seems like a much more dignified response than the one that is being broadcast accross the world.
A facebook poster wrote: "I mourn the loss of thousands a precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy." She then quoted Martin Luther King; "Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."
Nearly 10 years ago, our nation rallied and pulled together in common grief, and we translated that greif into a thirst for vengance. The cruel fact of murder is that the lives that have been lost, that have been changed will never be restored. But perhaps now we can move on. Now that we are no longer thirsty we can open our minds and our ears and find room in our hearts to love our enemy. "Love is the only force capable of turning our enemy into a friend" - Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
I don't know why I thought to check your blog today, but by a strange coincidence I was talking to your brother today about this very same topic -- the response (in the U.S.) to bin Ladin's killing.
ReplyDeleteI think the overwhelming response by those who were adults on Sept 11, 2001 was a grim sense of closure, of a sort. That's what I felt. But for those who were younger, I think the response has been more cathartic. Loren reminded me that Sept 11 was his first full week of high school. For him, and for those younger, the attack on the WTC defined a large part of their world as they came of age. I have read that many of the celebrations have been among college students -- perhaps from a feeling that they can finally begin to live the life they would have lived had 9/11 not happened. adolescents thenthere was the