Thank You, Walter Cronkite by Jeff Fuller jfuller5@qwest.net 10/01/01 Insightful commentary on the events of September 11, 2001 from an esteemed member of our SpiritQuest global family

SpiritQuest: Listening To The Plants

American flags are everywhere these days — draped across banisters, taped to windows, sprouting from flower beds — and each one is a fresh reminder of our deep national wound. Even the smallest flag can awaken my sympathy, kindle my anger, or bring to mind vivid stories of heroism, self-sacrifice and brotherhood. But the American flag can trigger other feelings and memories as well.

I was in high school during the Vietnam War, when an American flag on a bumper sticker or baseball cap meant something very different from what it means today. It meant, "I am proud to be an American." But it also meant, "If you are critical of America's involvement in Vietnam, you are no brother of mine." Instead of being a sign of unity, it had become a symbol of the bitter divide that separated our country.

Another reminder of that dim time occurred recently when I tuned in to late night TV and found David Letterman in mid-conversation with Walter Cronkite. If you remember America in the sixties, you remember Walter Cronkite. Month after month, year after year, his was the voice of the evening news, soberly reporting the losses of the war, grimly tallying the body counts that became symbolic of the futility and horror of Vietnam. Now, thirty years later, white-haired and dignified but very gracious and kind, he was being chatted up by David Letterman just hours before President Bush's address to Congress.

What should we be doing in this situation? Letterman asked. Cronkite responded: We should use all of our resources to bring those responsible to justice; We should not rest until they have been captured; We should rid the world of terrorism and hatred. But then his voice deepened into a warning: Storming into Afghanistan with a massive show of force could be a grievous mistake; We should listen carefully to our many friends and allies who urge restraint; We must make sure that our response is appropriate and just.
 
Perhaps only the "most trusted man in America" could say such things in our current political climate without sounding anti-American, but he pulled it off. He then went on to say something even more remarkable. He recalled the German people who lived near the concentration camps during World War II, ordinary civilians who expressed shock and horror when they learned what was going on behind the barbed wire fences. "We never knew," they exclaimed. "We put our trust in Hitler. We never asked or questioned what he was doing." Cronkite’s rebuttal: In choosing to be ignorant they became just as guilty as the German officers and soldiers inside the camps.

Exactly what he was driving at I cannot say, but the meaning for me was as clear as it was chilling: the fact that I may be ignorant of what my government is doing in no way relieves me of the moral burden of its actions. Two questions sprang to mind: How much of America's foreign policy am I truly aware of; and What is my responsibility, as an American and as a global citizen, to dig deeper than the evening news?

Television specials with titles like "Why Do They Hate Us?" remind us that America is not always the friend of the oppressed and downtrodden. American policy objectives in the Middle East have led to, or contributed to, much human suffering and oppression. Tom Mayer, CU Department of Sociology, puts it this way:

"…The policies of the United States… include ruthless preoccupation with oil, almost carte blanche support of Israel, indifference to the welfare of Arab people, backing of reactionary rulers (e.g. Shah of Iran, Emir of Kuwait, Saddam Hussein, the Taliban) whenever it serves American purposes, and liberal use of military force to obtain these objectives.… We are rightly horrified by the death of innocents in Washington and New York. But how many Americans shed a tear over the estimated 500,000 children that have perished as a consequence of U.S. policies towards Iraq…”

Stories of "collateral damage" from American policies overseas seldom make the cut in our newsrooms, but they make headlines every day throughout the Middle East. They reinforce the image of America as a ruthless superpower imposing its policies without considering the cost in human life. Lurking in the shadow of this image lies the awful accusation: If you are not an American, or an ally of America, your life means nothing.

As Americans, we take great pride in the phrase, "with liberty and justice for all." The word "all," of course, is accompanied by an invisible asterisk: applies to U.S. citizens only. The critical challenge we now face, the acid test of this new and potentially catastrophic Millennium, is this: in order for Americans to enjoy the peace and prosperity we cherish, we may now be compelled to redefine this "all" to include every human being on the planet.

It took a long and bloody Civil War before America righted its terrible wrongs of exclusion from this "all" (called slavery), and a violent Civil Rights decade before African Americans were granted, at least on paper, full participation in this "all." We have not even begun to make amends to the Native American nations who called this land home centuries before we "discovered" it. Many Americans still lack adequate food, shelter, clothing and medical care. How can we possibly apply this standard of liberty and justice to the whole world when we can't even apply it in the Land of the Free? It is possible because this statement is true: "There is nothing so powerful in all the world as an idea whose time has come."

In the Chinese language, the pictogram for “crisis” shows a man standing under a ledge; it carries the meaning of both danger and opportunity. The danger of our current crisis is clear. The opportunity? Perhaps this is a long-awaited moment of ripening. Perhaps the time has come for the one idea shared and cherished by every spiritual tradition the world over: “In all things, treat others the way you wish to be treated.” In other words, treat strangers as if they were family.

This utterly simple "golden" rule becomes a mandate in this age of sophistication and technology not because of an upsurge of altruism or kindness, nor because of a flood of religious hope or fear. Its mandate arises from the sober realization that following this rule on a global scale is our only hope for true national security, and perhaps even for survival itself. It may be too much to expect that our current leaders would ever endorse such an obvious and revolutionary concept. But I will vote for those men and women who grasp the importance of placing universal liberty and justice over narrow self-interests, who understand that no policy is more important than life itself, who have the vision and heart to recognize the hope — and the urgency — of our situation.

I honor and cherish the American flag, and I will continue to defend the principles for which it stands. And when I hoist the stars and stripes I will make sure that no other flag flies above it, save this one: the flag of planet earth, unbroken by political borders or boundaries, a beautiful cloud-flecked orb of blues and greens and browns set against the deep black of space, silently holding its place among the stars.

"In the spirit of loosening the shackles of copyright, this article may be reprinted freely without permission or knowledge of the author."

Jeff Fuller
jfuller5@qwest.net
10/01/01

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