February
2005
Editorial: Are
We Good Americans?
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In the shadow of the latest presidential inauguration,
I’ve been giving a lot of thought to the idea of moving to
another country. As a taxpayer and U.S. citizen, the prospect of
living another four years under the Bush administration makes me
profoundly ill. Though the vote was far from a landslide, George
W. Bush has made it very clear that he will proceed aggressively
as if by mandate. And that worries me greatly.
According to investigative journalist Seymour Hersh, the U.S. has
been running covert military operatives into Iran, scouting potential
targets for attack (see
the New Yorker, week of 1/31/05). Although the military is already stretched
thin with the occupations of Iraq and Afghanistan and expansion into Africa and
Asia, that doesn’t seem to worry the president and his folk in their apparent
mission to eradicate the so-called ‘axis of evil.’ What this says
to me is that life is getting ever-more perilous for every living being on this
planet. Given that, it’s hard for me to remain in this country, complicit
with this agenda.
People like to remind me that every country has its evil side. However, in this
world, the U.S. is the sole superpower with the most deadly military in human
history. That power is compounded by the blurring lines between the U.S. military
and global commercial expansion, what President Dwight Eisenhower termed the
military-industrial complex.
Running Away
Because of my ancestry, I qualify for Irish citizenship, a place I dearly love.
But thinking about moving and renouncing my U.S. citizenship is not something
I take lightly. I grew up outside this country. My father was a diplomat, who
worked in the service of a country he loved, spreading values he believed were
good.
I spent my adolescence and part of my late teens in West Germany, a country whose
citizenry the world blamed (and still blames) for participating in the extermination
of millions of Jews and others deemed undesirable—either actively or passively.
While history documents the power that created such a killing machine, it’s
too easy to dismiss an entire people, those “good Germans,” who went
along with it all. The reality is more complicated than that. Many citizens resisted
in what way they could—or dared—in ways both big and small. A movement
has been afoot for years where Holocaust survivors and their families have sought
out those who assisted them in their survival—hiding them in their homes,
forging documents, lying about their neighbors’ backgrounds, etc. Thousands
of families of survivors and rescuers have been reunited in ceremonies commemorating
their actions. Under a regime that routinely dispatched dissenters, their small
acts were huge.
Many others profoundly disagreed with their government but out of fear, ignorance,
complicity, laziness or whatever else, just went about their daily lives, accepting
their nausea—“Better them than me.”
And of course, there were millions who agreed with the Nazi regime and are fully
responsible for their own actions and those of their government.
What If—
Today, all kinds of people like to say that they wouldn’t have allowed
the racist slaughter to happen, they would have resisted the government machine
that efficiently incinerated millions. They would have protected the victims
and spoken up and acted out.
It pains me to say this, but this type of “what if?” musing is no
longer a fantasy we Americans can luxuriate in. Most people won’t like
to admit that the time is here for us to stop positing what we would do under
an unstoppable killing machine, because it’s right on top of us. While
not as obvious as creating a system to gas people and stuff their bodies into
ovens, the body count the U.S. government and its people are responsible for
is immense and growing daily—and incalculable.
There is little point in trying to list the post-World War II U.S. atrocities,
both overt and covert. Suffice it to say, “democratization” and anti-drug
missions have wiped out people and destroyed lives in Central and South America,
all corners of Africa, South and Southeast Asia, and, of course, the Middle East.
What’s perhaps most atrocious is how little we, the American people, really
know about the bodies dispatched in our name. Those responsible have worked hard
to keep it so. And much of it takes place in other countries, making it even
more remote. But like the ignorant sleeping citizenry we are, the less we know
about our government’s actions, the more complicit we become. It’s
easy to hibernate if you’re unaware of the fires around you.
We felt the flames a few years ago when men hijacked four planes and plunged
them into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. They did not distinguish between
civilians and soldiers; politicians and citizens. Many Americans did wake up;
others tried, but were lulled back to sleep by a government practicing efficient
damage control. Four years later, after two occupations and thousands of people—soldiers
and civilians—dead, we’re back asleep. But one day, the tables will
be turned and history will inevitably look at post-WWII America as an aggressive
empire. I hope people will be able to distinguish between a people and its rulers.
Standing Firm
While I am close to losing my mind and my lunch over the actions of the Bush
regime, I am not going to allow them to take away everything that sustains me.
While it’s tempting to run away, I’d have to give up my friends and
family—my community—and everything American that has grown familiar
to me, those things and people I love (and those things and people I love to
hate). And I resent being forced to make that choice.
So I’m not going to renounce my citizenship just yet. Instead, I will be
doing what I can to protest a juggernaut I have the good sense to admit I alone
can’t stop and didn’t set in motion. While that doesn’t relieve
me of the profound responsibility of being a U.S. citizen, it helps me stay strong
and stand firm. My hope is that all “good Americans” will wake up
and decide to stay, put our heads and voices together, and make change happen
to resist an empire from within. The enormous energy galvanized by the 2004 election
is proof that hope is alive and change possible. Together, we will transform
what it means to be a “good American.”
Catherine Clyne
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