Brouhaha Over Benghazi

 

The investigation over security in Benghazi, Libya, where the U.S. ambassador and three others were tragically killed, continues within election year furor. As James Risen has written in The New York Times, however, the security of U.S. embassies and diplomats today is complex.

During the Arabian/Persian Gulf war in 1991, I began my first tour with the State Department at the U.S. consulate in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. Once the war was over, my colleagues and I enjoyed weekend trips to ancient ruins, group runs in the desert outside Jeddah, and evenings out in the city’s restaurants. In 2004, long after my assignment ended, al-Qaeda forces attacked the consulate and killed four employees and four of the consulate’s guard force.

When I served in Algiers in 1993, I probably acted foolishly in walking to a church on the weekend down narrow streets of the city. Hints of the extremist insurgency against the Algerian government surfaced, but we hadn’t yet been forbidden to walk around, and I wanted exercise. Besides, as a diplomat, I was supposed to know the people and country where I served. A few months later, as the insurgency increased, all but essential staff were evacuated back to the U.S.

In Tunisia in the late 1990’s, the U.S. embassy where I was posted occupied an old building near the center of town. The location was ideal for a quick lunch in one of the local restaurants. I often walked to work or rode the bus. Sometimes on weekends I parked my car at the embassy, then finished the journey by foot to a church in the old souk. I passed both a Jewish synagogue and a Muslim mosque on the way. (Jews have been in Tunisia since ancient times.)

Today, the U.S. embassy has been moved to a suburban location. Mobs recently attacked and damaged it, but did not gain entry. They destroyed the American school next door.

In short, security for overseas U.S. missions is more demanding and expensive today. Congress has not always been forthcoming with money for security programs.  Diplomats also chafe, as Risen pointed out in his article, at being stuck in buildings when they want to meet ordinary people outside.

Such complex sea changes had best be dealt with away from election hyperbole. All of us knew, even in the years I served, that security and diplomacy may contradict each other. We never supposed that all danger could be avoided.

 

Serendipity in Marseille

 

A serendipity can be defined as an unexpected happiness. During a low time in my life that seemed endless, the playing of the Pachelbel Cannon on a Sunday afternoon charged my inner being with the certainty that, eventually, all would be well.

Years later on an afternoon in Marseille, France, my husband and I searched for a place to eat. We had arrived in the French coastal city to spend one night before heading out early the next day on a ferry. It would take us across the Mediterranean to the historic city of Algiers.

We wanted only to eat and collapse in bed back in our hotel. I was a newly assigned junior economic officer at the U.S. Embassy in Algiers. I wandered in the anxious space one inhabits before entering unknown territory. Could I handle this assignment? What about the threatened insurgency in Algeria? The Embassy had recently evacuated all minor dependents because of terrorist threats.

This being Europe, not many restaurants were open in the afternoon. We stumbled onto a McDonald’s that, like its prototypes everywhere, was open all day.

We went in, bought our food, and settled upstairs in the almost empty restaurant. Then we heard the sounds of classical music. The McDonald’s may have been American-franchised, but this was France. A classical pianist played below. We enjoyed our Big Macs within the pleasant atmosphere of Mozart and Beethoven.

Yes, in a couple of days we would climb the hill out of Algiers’ Casbah and follow the narrow streets into an uncertain future in that troubled land. But for the moment, the music calmed my anxieties and prepared me to cope with what lay ahead.

Our Right To Say Outrageous Things

 

Members of Westboro Baptist Church picket the funerals of soldiers killed in the line of duty.

Their message is offensive to those who mourn loved ones. Courts in the U.S. have judged that the picketers have the right to protest even if their actions are scorned by the majority of Americans.

Some of our election campaigns trumpet messages demeaning to various candidates. Atheists and evangelical Christians routinely trade barbs.

Our ideals of free speech, which allow for the expression of sometimes unpopular views, remain difficult for those in the non-Western world to fathom. We see this in the protests over the video trailer demeaning the Muslim prophet Mohamed. Some press for “blasphemy” laws against such acts. Christians and other minority religions in countries like Egypt and Pakistan fear these laws, which have been used to persecute them.

In our current political campaigns in this country, we have passed the level of civility. Some ads resemble pitched battles rather than a discussion of the issues between intelligent citizens. Nevertheless, our freedom of speech remains precious. I can only encourage public revulsion against that which destroys rather than enlightens. In this country, corrections to excesses are always possible.

I have found my Christian faith strengthened by listening to those who don’t believe as I do. I develop reasons for my faith that allow an honest dialog with those of differing beliefs. A faith protected by laws can become a tepid faith.

They Also Serve

 

Recently, after my airline flight touched down, the attendant deviated from the normal landing remarks to thank our armed forces, both active and retired, for their sacrifices in the service of our country.

Since my husband is a retired army veteran, I appreciated her remarks. However, I did wonder about our ignorance of others who serve and sacrifice for our country. The week before, one of our ambassadors and three of his colleagues were killed in an uprising in a foreign country, yet this was not mentioned. Many of our diplomats serve today in countries where mob violence breaks out against the embassies and consulates where they are stationed. They send reports to our government in Washington that aid us in our foreign relations. They provide language skills, local knowledge, and other support when U.S. officials visit foreign countries.  They serve American citizens with mundane tasks such as passport renewals but also carry out tasks like visiting Americans imprisoned in foreign jails.

Other Americans serve in less dramatic ways that we overlook: border patrol agents; scientists who test medicines to determine if they are safe to place on the market; air traffic controllers; forest rangers; customs agents who check shipments for dangerous material; clerks who check and file documents needed for evaluation of potential immigrants; those who process social security payments to senior citizens, to name a few. We forget about them, but they make our lives safer and more pleasant.

I have lived in and known countries where governments were not so sympathetic to their citizens’ needs, countries run by corrupt and sometimes dangerous leaders. Their jails are filled with prisoners who are guilty of no more than peaceful disagreement with their government. Others are imprisoned because they are of the wrong religion or ethnic group.

The freedom to complain about aspects of our government that we do not agree with is a precious gift. May we not take lightly that gift, and may we be ever thankful for those who provide the services that we depend on every day.

 

The Deaths of 23,000 Americans in a Single Day

 

September 17th  of this year marked the 150th anniversary of the date when more Americans lost their lives in a single day than ever before or since. At least 23,000 Americans were killed in the Civil War battle of Antietam, near Sharpsburg, Maryland in 1862. At the end of the day, the lines of battle were hardly changed.

Why was the Civil War fought? Why did two peoples, sharing a common heritage, end up fighting eyeball to eyeball in the sunken road at Antietam?

Otherwise reasonable people became too angry to discuss differences. Southerners cared more for their cotton economy and its slave labor than in justice. The North knew its own exploitation of immigrant labor, yet often saw itself as superior and worked from a position of  self-righteousness in dealing with the slavery issue.

Yes, slavery was abolished, but segregation took its place because war did not change people’s minds. Wars seldom do. The excesses of the gilded age in the North continued well into the twentieth century, with its exploitation of cheap immigrant labor.

Unfortunately, the angry Antietams remain with us: the world wars of the twentieth century; 9/ll; mass killings in schools, workplaces, and houses of worships in this country; the bloody riots of the last few weeks in the Middle East, and our own political attack ads.

A fitting tribute to those who died would be our dedication to civil discussion in our own communities and politics, then our support of groups who seek to bring opposing sides together in the flashpoints of the world.

Diplomacy by Tweets

 

During recent attacks by mobs on the U.S. Embassy in Cairo, Egypt, the American staff passed warnings to American citizens in Egypt through the embassy’s Twitter network. American embassies lead the diplomatic world in their use of Twitter, Facebook and other digital tools.

Contrast this communication system with the one used during the first conflict in the Arabian peninsula against Saddam Hussein of Iraq in the early 1990’s. I served at the U.S. consulate in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, during that time. We set up telephone networks to pass information to American citizens in the region. No one owned a cell phone.

By the time of the second war with Iraq in the early 2000’s, I had returned for another tour in Saudi Arabia. We had graduated to emails for notification of events to our American citizen community. Only a few years later, our communication tools have advanced light years even from those times.

Besides using tweets to notify their citizens, U.S. officials abroad also monitor the tweets of foreign governments and political parties. These includes tweets in the native language as well as any English language tweets. During the Egyptian attacks, the U.S. Embassy noticed differing messages by governing Egyptians, depending on the language. A message in Arabic called on Egyptians to support the demonstrations against the Americans. A message in English offered sympathy and support to the Embassy.

The Embassy responded with its own tweet: “Thanks. By the way, have you checked out your own Arabic feeds? I hope you know we read those, too.”

Leaving Home: Scribblings From Exile

 

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the Christian pastor executed by the Nazis in World II, wrote: “When Christ calls a man, He bids him come and die. It may be a death like that of the first disciples who had to leave home and work to follow Him, or it may be a death like Luther’s, who had to leave the monastery and go out into the world. But it is the same death every time—death in Jesus Christ, the death of the old man at his call.” (from The Cost of Discipleship)

The reason I title my blogs, “Scribblings from Exile,” is that I believe Christians, even in America, are in exile. The blessings of democracy compel us to perform earthly citizenship duties, but we are, as the apostle Paul called us in one of his letters, ambassadors from another kingdom. Jesus rebuked his disciples for supposing he intended to be a political king.

A theme of my story Singing in Babylon is the understanding of this calling into exile. Kate and Philip, American Christians, feel themselves in exile when they journey to work in Saudi Arabia, a Muslim majority country. On returning home to the United States, they realize they are still exiles. They do not belong to the consumer culture of the West any more than they belong to the Muslim-majority Middle East.

If we Christians in Western countries understood the call to die to our culture, as we might if we understand Bonhoeffer, would our message be listened to rather than ignored or ridiculed?

What Is Global Fiction?

 

I fancy I still hear the call to prayer from the mosque beside the U.S. embassy compound, though I’m a grown woman now.

In the opening scene to my novel A Sense of Mission, the young protagonist, Kaitlin, the daughter of U.S. diplomats in a Muslim majority country, is wakened by the Islamic call to prayer. Her family is Christian. Her mother points out that the faithfulness of Muslims to their prayers might shame some Christians who rarely pray. She suggests that Kaitlin be reminded to pray to Jesus by the call to prayer.

That idea was one I carried out when I lived in the Middle East and heard the Muslim call to prayer five times each day. I decided to use it as a reminder to practice my Christian devotions. It was a reminder that an effective Christian life requires an active prayer life.

Many of us grew up in a country greatly influenced by the teachings of Christianity. We are only now understanding that those of us who call ourselves Christians actually are a minority in the world, about a third according to most counts. Lives immersed in the Internet and virtual communities remind us that we do indeed live in a global village. The increasing presence of other religions, or of no religion, jolts us.

The years I spent in foreign countries influenced me to write what I call “fiction for the global Christian,” to suggest the examination of life from a global viewpoint. Characters in such fiction struggle with personal faith issues, they fall in love, and they deal with family problems as in other fiction. In the midst of these conflicts, however, they understand Christianity as Jesus-centered for the whole world rather than centered exclusively on domestic American issues.

Other examples of global fiction include: When the Lion Roars by DiAnn Mills; Allah’s Fire by Chuck Holton and Gayle Roper; and Lion of Babylon by Davis Bunn.

 

That Human Trait: To Demand Meaning

 

From all indications, U.S. ambassador Chris Stevens dedicated his intellect and talents to serving his country and the cause of peace. Yet he died, asphyxiated in a burning building set on fire by citizens of a nation he tried to help. Three other Americans died in Libya as well, victims of riots caused by an obscure video none of them had any connection with.

News stories interrupt our days with other reports of rampages by sick people who kill and maim innocent strangers. In the Middle East. In our own neighborhoods. How do we respond? How do we find direction?

Viktor Frankl in his classic Man’s Search for Meaning did not believe one should seek suffering. A survivor of Nazi concentration camps, Frankl did believe that when suffering was unavoidable, we could find meaning in it. His book is a witness to his beliefs.

When we face times of suffering, Frankl indicates, we are better able to bear them if we have purpose, a reason for living. During such times as these, those of us who are Christians renew our commitment to our faith in a purposeful God. We do not worship suffering—Christ teaches us to love life—but suffering is a part of our story. Our salvation came through suffering. We may be lost in confusion for a time, like the disciples who stumbled through an awful Friday and Saturday. As author Tony Campolo’s book title states, however: It’s Friday, but Sunday’s Comin’.

It’s Friday.

Anger in a Connected World

 

The U.S. State Department has just confirmed that the U.S. ambassador to Libya and three other Americans were killed yesterday in Benghazi, Libya. A mob, angered by a movie supposedly made in the U.S. that they considered offensive to Islam, attacked the U.S. consulate in the Libyan city.

As a retired Foreign Service officer for the U.S. State Department, I can’t help but feel a personal involvement in this tragedy, though I didn’t know the victims. The ambassador apparently was an able diplomat, serving his country previously in Libya and other Middle Eastern posts.

I thought back to a sudden demonstration before another U.S. consulate in an Arab country, one where I served. I remember the chants of demonstrators against some perceived wrong that the U.S. government had done. I remember the prickle of fear as we listened to those chants on the other side of our consulate walls and scurried to secure documents and prepare as we had been taught to do in such a situation, should consulate security be breached.

Fortunately, the government of the country where I served was intact, not like the Libyan one, still struggling to form after the overthrow of a dictator. In our case, government troops appeared, and the demonstrators scattered and left.

Another reason for our more fortunate ending, I believe, was that the demonstrators were not organized.  Though the Internet was rapidly expanding, Facebook and Twitter did not yet exist to fan flames of anger and to pinpoint a place to release that anger. The Internet and social media bring us the usual double-edged sword of blessings and curses.

Any people can be incited to commit acts of violence. African-Americans have been murdered by mobs in the not too distant past in our own country. Recently, worshipers have been killed in religious gatherings.

One news article focused on anger points in political campaigns. The purpose is to arouse citizens to such anger that they will vote certain ways. Yet anger, once incited, sometimes catches fire in the minds of deranged or immature individuals, leading to the taking of lives.

In a previous blog I pointed out that the anger and frustration of the German middle class after World War I led them to choose Hitler and the Nazis. They had reasons for their anger, but they were wrong to accept Nazism as a solution. Angry people have, at best, made stupid decisions and at worst, committed murders and terrorist actions against innocents.

We carry grave responsibilities for the handling of our anger, especially in this age of connectedness. In this case, both the mob that killed in Benghazi and the maker of the movie that incited them need to ask if they handled their anger in a responsible manner.

When Ignorance Is Not Bliss But Deadly

 

We fight a war in a country called Afghanistan that few Americans had heard of before the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. Probably no more than one in a hundred of us could have identified it on a map.

The war began as an attempt to destroy the group responsible for the 9/ll attacks, though the  group is more often found in other countries now, like Yemen and Somalia—countries as unfamiliar to us as Afghanistan.

Our lack of knowledge of the countries where we fight has proved deadly. The deaths of American and other NATO troops in Afghanistan by their supposed allies, Afghani soldiers, has risen sharply in the past few weeks. Some of the killings were caused by members of the anti-American insurgent group, the Taliban, who sometimes infiltrate Afghani forces.

Observers contend that the Taliban are not the main reason for the killings, however. They suggest that the American-led NATO troops don’t respect Afghani culture. They burn the Quran, they say, disrespect women, and look down on Afghani society, causing them to be resented by the people they supposedly are protecting.

Americans appear to have little interest in countries outside of their own even when their soldiers die there. Tests of American students indicate a lack of knowledge about other countries. The interests of their parents center on news and literature concerning domestic issues. Foreign affairs are rarely mentioned in political campaigns.

Yet thousands of Americans, not to mention Afghani citizens, continue to be killed, wounded, and traumatized because we decided to fight there. What happens outside our national boundaries can lead us to life and death decisions. Shouldn’t we learn about the rest of the world so we can choose wisely?

How Did Our Exciting Story Become so Irrelevant To So Many?

 

Following is a scene from my novel A Sense of Mission. The scene follows an unsuccessful attempt to find a church home by three Christians:

We headed to a nearby Greek restaurant and took a table in the back to avoid standing out in our good clothes.

“So?” Ethan said, after we had ordered.

Matilda sighed and unfolded her napkin.

I said, “It’s amazing. All these high rises around. Lots more people, probably, than when the church was in the middle of a suburb, but the church seems to be dying.”

Matilda moved to one side to allow the server to fill her water glass. “I guess they’re doing their best to meet the needs of a changing neighborhood. Did you see the signs for two other groups that meet in the church? One Spanish, I think, not sure about the other.”

“Vietnamese,” said Ethan. “But one group seems almost totally absent, even though it’s probably the largest one in the neighborhood.”

“You mean the middle-class professionals enjoying a leisurely Sunday morning in their apartments and condos?” I asked.

“Right. How come Christians can’t seem to reach this group?”

I shrugged. “Look at the building. It fit fine with the architecture of the single-family suburb. Now it reminds me of those European cathedrals—kind of a dinosaur as far as relevance to the way people live today.”

“But why isn’t it relevant anymore?” Ethan asked. “That’s why the people don’t come now—the church doesn’t seem relevant to them. For the most part, they aren’t atheists or hostile to the church. They’re just indifferent to it. How did our exciting story become so irrelevant to so many?”

Eventually, Ethan answers his own question: “Christ isn’t tame, is he? He doesn’t wait in a box for us to open it on Sunday mornings. If you find where that Christ is, let me know. It’ll be scary, but I want that.”

Where does that Christ dwell, personified as Aslan in the Narnia tales as “not a tame lion”? What are the characteristics of a Christian gathering, or a Christian life, with that Christ at its center?

 

 

An Extreme Makeover of Christendom

 

The columnist Ross Douthat suggested that American Christians must find a way “to thrive in a society that looks less and less like any sort of Christendom—and more and more like the diverse and complicated Empire where their religion had its beginning . . .” (From The New York Times News Service, 2010.)

We have witnessed an extreme makeover of the Christian-oriented western culture that was called Christendom. Christianity has lost much of its influence in the larger society. Much conflict in the stories I write focuses on the struggles of American Christians to deal with the changed views that surround them. Often the characters live for a time in other cultures where religion remains a part of everyday life.

They understand, as I did after similar experiences, how closely intertwined are religion and government in some non-Western nations. It is a part of the national identity of those societies. Should one group’s religion be forced on a society to preserve that identity?

Is preservation what drove the early Christians? Perhaps one key is found in Douthat’s observation that today’s society is much like that of the Roman Empire. The Christians of that day did not try to change the Empire with a political movement. Instead they caused the Empire to change itself because their way of living attracted people to Christianity.

Once Christianity became compulsory for all, it lost much of its power. Small groups within the state churches dared live the radical lifestyle of Christ and pass on the Christain faith. The outer life, which springs from the life within, cannot be forced.

 

Impromptu Community; A Moment of Unexpected Grace

 

Most of us have experienced impromptu community, an unexpected incident that binds us to the people around us. Passengers on a plane bound for the United States on September 11, 2001, had to land unexpectedly in Newfoundland, Canada, when U.S. airspace closed following terrorist attacks in the U.S.

The Newfoundlanders showered unexpected hospitality on the passengers, lodging them in schools and churches, and feeding them. This hospitality, coupled with the horrifying events of the day, bonded the passengers to each other as well as to their hosts.

Perhaps a serendipity, a surprising moment of grace lifts us up. Eventually, the moment passes and we return to our own lives. Yet, that transforming moment pushes us gently toward hope.

A friend sent me a link to such a serendipity. First: a pedestrian square filled with tourists, couples, babies in strollers, children, the bored, the young, and the old. Then it becomes, for an instant, a community through the power of music.

Listen to the music, but watch also the touch of a sudden community.

 

Politics and the Prayer of St. Augustine

 

Lately, so the polls tell us, fewer Americans identify themselves as Democrats or Republicans. More of us call ourselves independents. Apparently, the current political scene has caused many to disavow party loyalty. Will we now choose more wisely?

Can we study issues instead of casting our ballots according to political sound bytes? Can we understand and respect those with whom we disagree? Never disparage them even if we come to different conclusions? Search for intelligent compromises?

Evidence of maturity is a realization that holding a political belief is not equated with God’s anointing. We are all humans with human failings. A successful democracy in the United States, the Middle East, or elsewhere requires the understanding that the political process is not just about me or my group. It’s about the community, be it nation or neighborhood. It’s about the people with whom we disagree as well as ourselves.

St. Augustine prayed:  God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference. In a political sense, we need the serenity to accept that not all issues spring from politics nor can they be solved through laws and elections. May we have courage for those issues that require difficult political decisions, and may we know wisdom to discern ways we can work together for the good of all.

Political Power And Forgiveness

 

You can’t help but feel sorry for the three Russian young women, displayed in the glass box for all the world to gloat at their humiliation. They stare out as though struggling to project a cool image amid their nervousness, the way young people do when called to account by their elders.

Their predicament is more serious than humiliation. A Russian court sentenced the women to two years in jail for singing a ribald song in a cathedral against Russian President Vladimir Putin. It went something like “Virgin Mary, Save Us From Putin.” It was disrespectful but mild considering that the recent election of Putin suggested grave improprieties and even fraud.

After protests developed over the election, Putin signed a new law that raised fines for participation in unauthorized protests to near the average annual salary in Russia. [link] Protesters and opposition bloggers have not only been fined but imprisoned.

The religious leaders of the Russian Orthodox church appeared outraged at the women’s actions and called their performance in the church part of an assault “by enemy forces.”  Finally, after accusing the young women and their supporters of sacrilegious acts, they called on the court to show mercy.

The young women said they did not mean to offend believers but were protesting the close ties between Putin and the Russian Orthodox church. Patriarch Kirill, head of the church, strongly supports Putin. [link]

Harsh punishment of the women is not likely to endear the church to the protesters, especially the younger ones. Wouldn’t community service have been a more appropriate punishment?

Bring Back the Military Draft?

 

A friend of mine believes that America began to decline as a nation when the military draft was abolished in 1973. I don’t know that I agree. Plenty of experts, it must be said, don’t think the American nation has declined, but believe that much of the rest of the world is simply catching up with us. Others believe our ability to adapt and innovate is as strong as ever.

I can see my friend’s point, though. We no longer have a citizen army, with most young men bearing equal burdens to fight, if necessary, in the country’s conflicts. New recruits are not as likely to come from the class of richer young people, those with privilege, as from those of the less advantaged. The bodies brought back from Afghanistan tend to be grieved by families of lesser education and money.

In a democracy, reality trumps policy. During a time of recognized threat to this country, young people of all levels volunteer for military duty, but they don’t understand long conflicts where even people they are supposedly helping sometimes kill them.

When a significant percentage of American citizens don’t believe in sending troops to a conflict, a draft leads to protests like those during the Vietnam War. If we had a draft today, we might not have entered Iraq and might already have exited Afghanistan. Less advantaged young people would not carry the burden of dying while the richer ones attend college and find lucrative vocations.

What if we passed a law that forbids our country from committing ground troops to a conflict for longer than ninety days unless we first reinstate the draft?

To Appreciate Our Right To Vote, Live In A Country That Doesn’t Have It

 

Less than half of eligible voters cast ballots in our state primary this year. What kept the voters away? A long ballot? Not enough time? On vacation? Thinking it didn’t matter?

Voting for me is automatic. So far as I know, my parents never campaigned for a candidate or contributed to a political party, but they voted in every election for which they were eligible. They volunteered as workers at my school, the neighborhood polling place, on voting day. We discussed candidates around the supper table, never with bitterness or hatred but with serious questions and opinions. Who was the best candidate? Why? What incumbents had done a good job and should be reelected or hadn’t and should be voted out of office? My dad, who never finished high school but loved history, provided background on the political development of our country.

Voting and taking an interest in elections seemed as natural as going to church. I’ve voted ever since I was eligible. Many of my votes were absentee because I worked and lived overseas, places like Saudi Arabia and North Africa. As a U.S. consular officer, I notarized ballots of many overseas Americans.

A local employee who worked for me in Saudi Arabia once asked if he could see my ballot that had just arrived. To him, unable to vote in free elections as I was, I suppose it seemed as priceless as a valuable manuscript. He treated it almost with reverence.

Perhaps that’s the reason I can’t understand why my fellow citizens don’t exercise this wonderful gift that allows them to elect their leaders. Perhaps they would if they’d lived in countries where the citizens have no elected leaders.

 

Syria’s Nightmare

 

Bashar al-Assad, the dictator of rebellion-challenged Syria, has threatened to use chemical weapons on his own people if outside nations come to the aid of the rebels that Assad’s forces kill without mercy. No one takes Assad’s threats lightly. His father, dictator before him, massacred thousands, including women and children, in the village of Homs, for their part in a 1982 rebellion.

Few people suggest that the U.S. become involved with ground forces, given Iraq and Afghanistan. Instead, the U.S. works with contacts developed by the U.S. embassy in Damascus before its closure due to the war.

Robert Ford, the U.S. ambassador to Syria, remained in Syria as long he could with members of his staff. Very unpopular with Assad’s government, they risked their safety to stay as long as possible in order to maintain and develop contacts within the Syrian opposition.

Most believe Assad will leave, though no one knows when. At present, the forces opposing Assad are suffering serious losses after they took the battle to Syria’s major cities. The longer it takes for Assad to leave, the stronger the desire for revenge when he does exit the scene. To discourage this outcome and provide support for a country that will respect all ethnic and religious groups, the U.S. works with the Syrian opposition, now based in neighboring Turkey. Past contacts by the embassy prove valuable.

Fear of ethnic killings haunts anyone engaged with the Syrian conflict. The minority Alawites, a branch of Islam considered heretical by most Muslims, have ruled Syria for decades through the Assads. Revenge reprisals against innocent members of this sect are possible, as are actions against the minority Christians within Syria. The Christians have generally supported Assad, despite his brutalities, because his government is secular and not interested in religious extremism. Rumors float of al-Qaeda terrorists sending in fighters to vie for an extremist state.

Let us hope and pray that the engagement of the international community, including America’s diplomats, will find success against the tide of anger and hatred bubbling in Syria’s multi-ethnic cauldron.

 

Atlas and the Vulnerable

 

I read Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand, several years ago. The message, as I remember, is the burden on those who strive and work of carrying the rest of the world. “The rest,” Rand believed, are parasites who live off the labor of the producers.

Ayn Rand was born in Russia and witnessed the horror of the communist takeover there. America became her ideal, and she immigrated to the United States as a young woman. She believed in unfettered capitalism, a complete separation of economics and state.

Ayn Rand’s philosophy may work well for those of us endowed with the blessings of health and self worth. But not all of us are. None of us is immune to a catastrophe that could ruin us. And why do we presume that those with power will always use it in beneficial ways? Without laws, the powerful too often become corrupt.

Years ago I saw a play given by homeless people about homelessness. It taught me some of the many reasons for their condition. Some homeless are shiftless and lazy. Some work hard but make poor choices or are victimized by shysters. Some suffer misfortunes that are beyond anyone’s control like medical illnesses that could strike any of us and leave us helpless.

Vulnerability is closer to all of us than the more fortunate sometimes suppose. If we desire a civilized society, we must provide ways for the widows and orphans to overcome their vulnerability so they, too, can contribute.

The best welfare we can give a person is the means to find his or her gifts that benefit society. For myself, I know that for any success I have enjoyed in this life, I owe much to the parents who raised me. I began with the advantage of a family who loved me, taught me that I am of worth, and gave me confidence to make my way.  They paid for a college education for me that I might have certain skills. They gave me a love of learning. These are gifts that I did not earn.