Facade of Peace

I am coming more and more to think that the cause does not justify the action. Cause is a subjective thing. I suspect that no one truly understands the basis for another's cause. Belief systems run deep and are so multi-layered that onions seem like simple things compared to them. Every second of a life is impacted by something and how these somethings are tied together creates a way of being.

I do not ever remember not feeling justified the instant I did something. I might not have felt so later, but in that moment it felt right. Even when I punched the Rabbi's son in the nose! (I was nine or ten years old and he wouldn't leave us alone while we were trying to play house on our neighbor's porch. My world was the 1950's world of cowboy shows and I remember thinking, "what would it be like to punch him in the nose?" I was not a violent child. We were not allowed to hit at all in our family and I, as the oldest, was held to an even higher standard than my younger siblings, but I hit that boy right in the nose! I'd like to say I learned a great lesson, but I probably only learned several smaller ones. One, it was not particularly satisfying. It did not sound like the ones on television. It was a pathetic little thunk. Two, it hurt my hand probably as much as it hurt his nose. Three, he ran home crying and his father called my mother who was so humiliated by "the little heathen she had raised" that I was in a lot of trouble.) But not once, did I not feel justified in what I had done! I decided it had been a poor choice, but mostly because I had not made my point -- leave us alone.

I hit the Rabbi's son. That action is done and any repercussions that fall from his understanding of that are here. Now I know that was just a childish rift. Ira hit a lot of other people before and after that afternoon, so I don't think it had any real meaning for him, except a girl hit him and made him cry. I, on the other hand, never smacked my siblings, but I used to dream of getting back at them for my grievances in other ways. And that is what I am trying to say. The frustration, the anger, the pain, the sense of being misused, or misunderstood comes from each inside each of us. If I use that to justify my actions and prove that I am right, so do all the others who strike out.

Everything has to start somewhere, but it would be nice if some things could also end. I bomb you in retribution. Your grandma is killed so you bomb me back. My niece dies so I bomb you back. The actions are done. They add immeasurable layers to the belief systems of those they touch. Not one brings grandma or my niece back. Not one promotes peace. At the best they prolong the facade of peace that covers underground violence until it has the strength to burst forth and explode upon the earth once more. Everyone feels validated and everyone pays the terrible price of continuing to suffer.

It is the same on smaller scales too. You hurt my feelings, so I get back at you by shunning you. You step on my toes, so I throw you out of my life. Until we sit down and work out the feelings behind all of this, it festers like a pimple lying just under the skin waiting to pop out.

No one wins if nothing is resolved, or if the solution is simply conquering the physical forces that be. Not even if a peace treaty is signed, not even if democratic elections begin, not even if next year the sun shines for 365 days of perfect growing weather and the fields flourish and the flowers bloom. As long as the darkness exists it continues to grow and it will continue to revisit the earth creating bigger, deeper, darker abysses for those who are yet to be born. Even the old sci-fi idea of us obliterating ourselves will not change things if the one person left has not learned that actions count more than who is right.