The world will never be the same again!" Since September 11, 2001, we have heard and read this dozens of times, from Friends as well as others of many different orientations. I have been slow to make my own statement, but now I feel clear to say, Nonsense! Unfortunately, the world is still as it has always been, since the earliest of human records. We will do well to recognize a lesson of history when it strikes close to home, especially when that lesson is an illustration of George Santayana’s comment: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
Of course, in each moment, the world will not be the same again; we cannot step twice into the same river. But as meant by the mourners and cheerers over September 11, the assertion is true only in the most limited, parochial sense. The illusion of U.S. security has been shattered, but it was always an illusion. There are lessons to be learned from the terrible acts that shattered it, but they are not the ones the Bush administration seems to have in mind.
Why do they hate us?
Aside from the laughable charge that this question is unpatriotic, its weakness is that it is naive.
Why should the dispossessed and their ideological supporters not blame the rich and powerful for their poverty and deprivation, if the rich are to blame? When peaceful and nonviolent actions did not cure problems, even as great a soul as Nelson Mandela came to support violence, though not hatred. But hate for strangers, especially invading strangers, is easy and natural. In the middle of the 20th century, Henry Luce, founder and guiding spirit of Time magazine, announced that this was the "American Century," and our national political leaders have mostly acted accordingly. It is hard to look at the record and doubt that the result has invited hatred.
Surely, we all should know what our government has done. In pursuit of our "national interest," we overthrew or helped to overthrow democratically elected governments, not only in Guatemala and Chile in the western hemisphere, but also in Iran in the Middle East. In the interests of U.S. business, we have bullied other governments with pressures up to and including threats of military attack. Ronald Reagan’s violation of his oath of office in the Iran-Contra affair had many antecedents. Even as relatively enlightened a president as Franklin Delano Roosevelt reportedly justified supporting the brutal dictatorship of Anastasio Somoza in Nicaragua by saying, "I know he’s a son-of-a-bitch, but he’s our son-of-a-bitch."
And, of course, for a variety of reasons, no past administration in Washington has acted effectively to restrain the government of Israel from brutality in the occupied areas of Palestine, although the economy of Israel and its strong military position are largely dependent on continuing U.S. aid. Friends need no official intelligence about what has gone on in the Ramallah area, for instance; we have our own sources. For the Islamic world in general, our continuous meddling in the Middle East in support of our "national interest" in oil has made many enemies and few friends; for Osama bin Laden and other Arab terrorists, such as the suicide pilots of September 11, our support of the Saudi dictatorship has enlarged their bitterness to include the government of the United States.
It is not hard to imagine that our hegemony will eventually go the way of those of Rome, Spain, Napoleon’s France, the British empire, the Soviet Union, Nazi Germany, and Japan. Some observers predict that the 21st century will be the Chinese century, not ours. The internal and external consequences of following narrow self-interest lead predictably to loss of dominance, and in most cases, to disaster. The history of human abuse of power and its consequences is sobering. For some, it has provided solid ground for cynicism; for others, it has encouraged a belief in heaven for the faithful, after we leave this "vale of tears."
A hopeful faith
Where can I stand, then, as a Friend who believes neither in infant damnation nor in a day of judgment followed by eternal life? Must I agree with the very persuasive arguments of Stephen Jay Gould that all life and evolution are the result of simple chance, and that there is no role for God? I know experimentally that the truth is otherwise. It was my good fortune to find Quakerism early in life—a faith that can include both intellectual acceptance of scientific findings and experiential knowledge of the mystery of divine involvement in the life of the universe, including my own life. I experience the divine creative process not, as some do, as a personality, but rather as an inspiring thrust toward love, coherence, and clarity of vision; not as omnipotent, but possibly as omniscient and omnipresent. We are born neither originally sinful nor wholly good, but with a mixture of tendencies derived from our evolutionary past and our mysterious self-consciousness and spiritual aspirations.
To the extent we follow the selfish drive from our evolutionary past, we shall use guile and force to gain our ends; the welfare of others will be secondary. Violence, oppression, and exploitation will continue to be the principal modes of human relations, from the familial to the global. Except for limited times and places, this has been the dominant mode of human relations; today is no exception. To the extent we respond to the creative thrust, the Inner Light, we can lead lives that are productive, harmless, and healing. We can help move the human race toward more harmonious and constructive relations.
The way of love has been taught persuasively by Jesus and other great prophets, including Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., and Quakerism’s own John Woolman. It is what we are taught by the Inner Teacher. To the extent it is practiced, it makes a difference. It has led to significant areas of good human relations in many times and places. If the government of the United States could reflect this spirit enough to promote democracy, equality of economic opportunity, and peaceful resolution of conflict, first within our nation and then within the global system, the driving force of the terrorist movement would be cut off at the roots. Without oppression and exploitation, supported by military power, the deprivation, desperation, and frustration that breed and feed fanaticism could be minimized. This is the dream that has kept me going as an active pacifist and a Friend committed to the spiritual life of our Religious Society.
How shall we proceed?
I have never seen any contradiction between the life of the Spirit and the life of social and political activism. The spiritual experience of meetings for worship, including business meetings, has helped me "stay in the Light"—focused on love and understanding rather than irritation, annoyance, frustration, bitterness, and anger. I can then work actively in conflict situations with some peace of mind and objectivity. Working in a spirit of love leads me to draw strength from that of God in those with whom I am working, which refreshes my spirit. This mutual reinforcement of two modes of worship is one of the most helpful things the Quaker way has taught me. While the greatest part of my social activism has been with American Friends Service Committee and other Quaker organizations, I have also used this approach in politics, teaching, academic administration, and other situations, with great benefit to myself and, I hope, to others. This principle of alternating worship as inward quietness and as outward activity has done me so much good I recommend it for all who seek to use love as a transforming power.
