Vengeance and Peace by John Beske September 14, 2001 The number they are saying tonight is five thousand. Five thousand souls that have been forcibly removed from this Earth. Five thousand people leaving behind parents, friends, husbands, wives, partners, and children. Five thousand people worth of memories, experiences, unfulfilled dreams, sorrows and joys. Five thousand people who started their day just like any one of us, and five thousand people who ended it in a nightmare of panic, screams, ash, fire, falling beams and melting steel. A towering symbol of America's economic might lay in ruins. I join the untold millions who grieve, who stand in bewilderment at the present, and with mounting concern for the future. Some lash out against an unseen enemy, vowing threats of retaliation from the military force of the world's last superpower, eager to exact vengeance in the form of f-16s and cruise missiles. Striking out blindly at Evil taps into archetypal feelings in all of us: feelings of righteousness, strength and courage flamed by a sense of shared experience and patriotism. But this isn't just some football game we're talking about. Our nation's leaders, whose guidance and cool-headedness is so critical in these challenging times, offer not comfort but angry promises of war. Here in Chicago, I watch in disbelief and horror as the evening news shows us bands of proud vigilantes marching through the streets, looking for cartoon terrorists inside every Mosque, every Arab-American home. They look startlingly similar to football fans, waving flags and shouting slogans. Except they look angry. Dangerously angry. I have seen this before, ten and a half years ago, during the Gulf War, when people cursed me and spit on me as I walked through Chicago's Loop because I dared to wear a button emblazoned with a Peace symbol on my lapel, and ten and a half years before that, when Americans were being held hostage in Iran, and my otherwise sensible friends made vows to kill the first Iranian they saw, resorting to jingoism to express their feelings of powerlessness The attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon have left us feeling violated, shocked, hurt, angry, and confused. Rage is a natural response. Rage against the unholy cowards who have shattered our lives. Rage is justified if it is directed against someone beneath us, someone inhuman -- animal. I am a vegan. I don't believe animals deserve to die for our comfort or hunger. And I don't believe that terrorists fly fully loaded airliners into skyscrapers because they're inhuman. They are suffering from the same rage, actually an even deeper rage, directed against those who have shattered their own lives. The crash expressed their rage in physical terms and the lives lost were collateral damage. In Lebanon and Syria, Palestinians suffer serious acts of violence directed at them from the Israeli army, firing American bullets from American rifles, and American shells from American tanks. The Palestinians return the violence with rocks, cars and handmade bombs. The cycle continues on and on and on, looking no different from day to day except the number of increasing casualties. In Iraq, a completely demoralized populace buries their children who have died from the crippling American sponsored embargo that has prevented food or medicine from entering their country, or killed in the bombing attacks that have been a regular occurrence for the last decade since the American military obliterated their country in the first place. The rage we feel at the loss of life in the U.S. -- were we feeling it about the Iraqis? Was it justified because they have a mad tyrant of a leader? Are other nations justified in killing Americans because they do not like our leader? The object of the U.S. rage is still in power in Iraq, but many innocent civilians have lost their lives. Their repressed pain, sadness, and anger have boiled into rage against the symbols of their oppression. So many people have so much to avenge. But how does one avenge a terrorist? Do we double our military budget? Pilfer the funds earmarked for education, healthcare, and environmental protection to buy new bombers and tanks even though this terrorist act was carried out with nothing more than plastic knives and box cutters? Do we flatten Damascus, Baghdad, and Kabul? Will that stop terrorists from attacking our cities? What if we kill every Arab in the world? Will that restore our feeling of safety, of sanity? At some point we'll have to learn that terrorists have a greater capacity for violence than freedom-loving people. In their minds they have less to lose and more to avenge. If they are willing to end their lives in order to kill the most Americans, our threats of retaliation can do little to frighten them. Years of watching history unfold in the Middle East should give us a pretty good idea of the fruits of vengeance. Many of our leaders appear to realize this, at least on an intellectual level. Yet, still they plot ways to take the eye for the eye, as if this is the only possible way to ease their wounds. There are many of us in America who do not seek vengeance. We seek healing and hope, understanding and wisdom, courage and inner strength, compassion and peace. We want to see justice served on behalf of those who have suffered and are suffering. But we don't believe that the cost of this justice should be borne by the continued destruction of innocent lives. Our voices are being drowned out by those who believe that the answer to violence is more violence. But it is critical now that we strive to be heard. We are facing an uncertain future. If hotter heads prevail, we may be heading down the path to a deadly war that will likely be partially fought on U.S. soil by an invisible enemy using tactics we have never before witnessed. But if the peacemakers can encourage a critical mass of people to understand the roots of this violence and cross the chasm of rage with a bridge of peace, then there is hope that we may prevent the next great needless tragedy. As vegans, it is incumbent upon us to lead in the construction of this bridge. Veganism requires an empathy for those who suffer without hope, and an urgent desire to protect all life from wreckless destruction. It's a celebration of life. Veganism also represents our endless capacity to evolve into the best we can be and it helps the collective unconscious do the same. It is important for all vegans and others who desire peace to make themselves heard now. We must speak with our unique voices of compassion and intelligence. We must send a message of hope to all who are willing to listen. We have an opportunity of healing that may be unprecedented, and it may be our last chance We may not have all the answers that will resolve this terrible act, but we have a start. Let your voice be heard. Broadcast your feelings to all your listserves. Fill the web's chatrooms with messages of peace. Write to politicians and religious leaders. Call talk radio shows. Send letters to the editor. Plaster posters covered with messages of hope around your neighborhood. Call your family and friends. Speak up at the P.T.A., the Rotary Club, your Veg Society, and your church groups. Encourage the groups you're in to work for justice and peace for everyone. March in the streets. Form a coalition. Stage a puppet theater. It's not too late to avoid a devastating and unnecessary war. But we must act now. Our country can choose the path of vengeance or the path of peace. Help us choose peace.

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