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Mosque Silliness

This being an election year, Republicans have gone wild. Again.

In what is an amazingly effective strategy for them, they are demonizing people. Again. This worked in Nixon’s “Southern Strategy” against the African-Americans. This worked when Carl Rove designed to put amendments against same-sex marriage on the ballots in many states as Bush was running for re-election. They tried to get the same strategy to work in 2008 by putting Proposition 8 on the ballot in California.

This year, they started early, striking out against Latinos. The adoption of Arizona’s SB 1070 law was accompanied by incredibly degrading statements against undocumented immigrants. We were told that these immigrants were drug pushers and murderers who were stealing jobs from out of work real Americans. Then, someone in the Republican camp must have had a rational thought.

Nixon’s strategy, while effective for his purposes, drove the African-American votes from the party of Lincoln into the Democratic camp. African-Americans now vote overwhelmingly for Democrats. The first two African-American senators, Hiram Rhodes Revels (1870-1871) and Blanche Bruce (1875-1881), were both Republicans. The last Republican African-American senator, Edward Brooke, III, left office in 1979. All the first African-American representatives were Republican. The last Republican African-American representative, J. C. Watts, left office in 2003. The Republican members of congress, both in the Senate and the House of Representatives, are now uniformly white.

Latinos are the fastest-growing minority group in the U.S. The SB 1070 strategy of demonizing undocumented immigrants, the overwhelming majority of whom happen to be Latino, threatened to do what Nixon’s strategy did — provide a short-term gain but the set the party up for long-term failure. Another target had to be found.

(Gays, while promising as the eternal whipping-boy, were out. The current issues are marriage and service in the military. It’s hard to demonize a group that is fighting for domestic stability and the right to die fighting for the country. Those old photos from the 1970s gay pride events and those showing “girly-men” don’t work so well when the predominate images are of families and members of the uniformed service.)

Who else could it be? Ah! The Muslims.

Hence, was born this totally artificial debate over the “mosque at ground zero.” On the face of it, the argument is ridiculous. The building isn’t a mosque. While Ground Zero can be argued to be “hallowed ground,” as Lincoln so designated Gettysburg, the range of businesses near to ground zero, including a strip club, a hair restoration clinic and a horse betting parlor, belies the designation of a “hallowed neighborhood.” The constitution clearly provides religions freedom from government interference.

But, these arguments don’t matter. The striking-out at Muslims is not meant to be rational. They are simply the latest in a long string of scapegoats. They are different. As the African-Americans and gays are different, and, for that matter, as were the Japanese-Americans were during World War II when they were shipped off to concentration camps in the desert. The Italian, German and Irish grandparents and great-grandparents of this mob were once the different ones. But now, they are now in power and are looking for someone else to demonize. They see their power waning, and this frightens them. They could, once again, be the different ones, and they know what happens to those who are different. They know what they do to those who are different.

So, what can we do? We can’t fight irrationality with rational argument, much as we might like to try. One thing might be to try and ignore them, but that strategy didn’t work so well in Germany in the 1930s. If we somehow win the argument about the mosque, they will simply use their fallback strategy of going back after the immigrants or gays.

No, this type of modern lynch mob can only be stopped by shame.

In today’s entry in the blog Band of Thebes, the author quotes Bayard Rustin in his 1986 essay From Montgomery to Stonewall. In it, Rustin says, with regard to gay rights:

There are four burdens, which gays, along with every other despised group, whether it’s blacks follow slavery and reconstruction, or Jews fearful of Germany, must address. The first is recognize one must overcome fear. The second is overcoming self-hate. The third is overcoming self-denial. The fourth is more political. It is to recognize that the job of the gay community is not to deal with extremists who would castigate us or put us on an island and drop an H-bomb on us. The fact of the matter is that there is a small percentage of people in America who understand the true nature of the homosexual community. There is another small percentage who will never understand us. Our job is not to get those people who dislike us to love us. Nor was our aim in the civil rights movement to get prejudiced white people to love us. Our aim was to try to create the kind of America, legislatively, morally, and psychologically, such that even though some whites continued to hate us, they could not openly manifest that hate. That’s our job today: to control the extent to which people can publicly manifest antigay sentiment.

That also should be our objective in today’s fight against the Republican mob: To control the extent to which people can publicly manifest anti-gay, anti-immigrant, anti-Muslim, anti-those-who-are-different sentiment. It took forever the the civil rights movement. It is taking forever in the gay movement. We have our work cut out for us in the immigration debate and in the Muslim debate, but it is time to get started.

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The Migrant

The Migrant (“El Migrante“) by Los Tigres del Norte — in honor of those who have crossed borders to live in other lands, those impacted by prejudice against foreigners and for those, like me, who at time grow homesick:

Soy emigrante que sufre
Al estar tan lejos
De mis padres y mi patria
Donde me vieron crecer
Un día cruce la frontera
Buscando el triunfo

Hay dios mío cuanto sufro
Quien sabe si volveré

La soledad me carcome
También el tiempo
Solo con el pensamiento
Regreso a donde nací
Lejos en tierras extrañas
Vivo el tormento

Cual si me tuvieran
Preso y no me puedo salir

Soy emigrante
Como extraño a mi país
A mis hijos y hermanos
A mi madre idolatrada
Al amor que me lloraba
Cuando me miro partir

El emigrante
Como debe de sufrir
Y quisiera ser el árbol
Que no cruza las fronteras
Que se muere en su tierra
Apoyado en su raíz

Hay patrias que te cobijan
Si les conviene
Y te violan los derechos
Y tu forma de vivir

Hay quienes se regresaron
De suelo extraño
Otros tantos
Que se fueron tan solo
Para morir

Soy emigrante
Como extraño a mi país
A mis hijos y hermanos
A mi madre idolatrada
Al amor que me lloraba
Cuando me miro partir

El emigrante
Como debe de sufrir
Y quisiera ser el árbol
Que no cruza las fronteras
Que se muere en su tierra
Apoyado en su raíz

I am an emigrant who suffers
To be so far
From my parents and my country
Where I grew up
One day I crossed the border
Looking for success.

Oh my God, how I suffer
Who knows if I will return

The loneliness eats away at me
Also the time
Only with the thought
That I return to where I was born
Far from foreign lands.
I live in torment.

What if I have become
A prisoner and I’m not able to leave?

I am an emigrant
How I miss my country
And my children and brothers
My blessed mother
My love who cried
When she saw me leaving

The emigrant
How he has to suffer
And wish to be a tree
That doesn’t cross borders
That dies in its own land
Supported by its roots

There are countries that shelter you
If it suits them
And violate your rights
And your way of life

There are those who returned
From strange lands
Many others
Who went alone
To die

I am an emigrant
How I miss my country
My children and brothers
My blessed mother
My love who cried
When she saw me leave

The emigrant
How he has to suffer
And wish to be a tree
That doesn’t cross borders
That dies in its own land
Supported by its roots

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Random Questions

What would have happened if Lance Orton and Duane Jackson, the vendors in Times Square, were undocumented? What would have happened if it occurred in Arizona? Would they have risked calling the police?

What would we be doing if the oil in the Gulf were flowing west or south onto the shores of Mexico, Colombia or Venezuela?

NOAA map of the 3,858 oil and gas platforms extant in the Gulf of Mexico in 2006.

What would be the effects if the oil blowout had happened during hurricane season?

Are we prepared to accept that the Gulf coast has been changed for at least the rest of our lives? In the Exxon Valdez disaster in Alaska, according to the Wikipedia article, “Despite the extensive cleanup attempts, less than ten percent of the oil was recovered and a study conducted by NOAA determined that as of early 2007 more than 26 thousand U.S. gallons (22,000 imp gal; 98,000 L) of oil remain in the sandy soil of the contaminated shoreline, declining at a rate of less than 4% per year.

And, it’s not just the oil. We have no idea what the effect will be of the tonnage of dispersants that have been pumped into the Gulf.

The number of U.S. structures in the Gulf is roughly 4,000, with 819 manned platforms. How many more disasters are out there just lying in wait? Is greed worth this price?

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Should I Stay or Should I Go? Part III

Bolivian Children

Children in San Pablo de los Guarayos, Bolivia

I hope that this can be the final installment of this little drama and I can get back to bashing Arizona and nudging Obama.

I have been thinking why I came to the missions. When I was looking at the Franciscans, the one ministry I really couldn’t see myself doing was the missions. “I’m too middle class,” I thought to myself. That challenge was undoubtedly one reason I chose to try it.

Also, when we started the Assisi Community back in 1985, I noticed that the people who seemed most committed to the work of justice were the ones who had spent considerable time among the people of the developing world. (Except, that is, for Marie Dennis, who seems to have arrived at it on her own.) A second reason I chose the missions was to educate myself to the realities of the world. The world looks very different from the perspective of the developing world — a view that most U.S. residents don’t have the privilege to see. I don’t know if it will have made me more effective, but I hope that it serves to motivate me for the years I have left.

A third cause was simply the people that I met when I first came to Cochabamba to study Spanish after the novitiate. Their friendship continues to sustain me and is one of the main reasons I hesitate to leave immediately.

The question now is whether I have met these challenges and it is, therefore, time to return to the belly of the beast. More and more, I think it is.

Meanwhile, here in Camiri, it is getting colder and colder. There is no indoor heat anywhere in Bolivia, except maybe the Radison hotel in La Paz, and so I am slowly adding more blankets to my bed. I’m up to three now and only have one left. I hope the cold breaks soon. Maybe, if I get back to the States soon enough, I can enjoy some of the beach. Wouldn’t that be a nice change!

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Show I Stay or Should I Go? Part II

IMG_1046.JPG

Santa María de los Angeles, Camiri

When reading over my last post, I in no way want to be too harsh on the Italian friars which whom I live. They are good men. They have been here much longer than me, have many more successes than me, and are undoubted better friars than I am. The fraternal life here in Camiri is one which is familiar to them and which sustains them in their work. I, in no way, criticize them for the work they do or the lives they lead.

My only problem is that is not the life to which I was formed. It is not a life which sustains me. It is not a life at which I feel at home, nor do I think it is a life to which I would ever be able to adapt.

I went up to Cochabamba last week to try — once again! — to get my new ID card. As is usual with my dealings with Bolivian bureaucracy, I had no luck. (The Immigration folks didn’t want to give me a new ID card because I have a new passport, and when we went to try and apply to have the visa transferred to the new passport, it turned out the Interpol police had lost my registration card. So I have to wait at least a month for them to get a new report on me before I can begin the process to transfer the visa. That process, once it is started, will take an additional three months.)

While in Cochabamba, I was able meet with the Bolivian provincial minister but had little success. The poor guy has problems in a number of areas of the province and kept saying, “But, if I move you, who will I move into there?” I did get to talk to a US friar who has been here for years and who is on the provincial council, and he did give me a bit of hope that something could be worked out.

So, we shall see where this takes us. It’s all a great adventure.

Sometimes it’s tough being the only norteamericano for hundreds and hundreds of miles. It’s also tough being locked up in a monastery with little opportunity to make friends on the outside. It is a joy, therefore, to be able to share my dilemma with those of you who care to read about it. Thanks.

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